"Come in.  It's open."

"Hi Mom.  I got all the stuff you asked for.  Now what's going on?  Wow, don't you look pretty.  Is that a new tiara?"

"Turn on the oven to four fifty."

"Okay, done.  So what's going on?"

"Get that big fry pan out.  I keep it in the stove."

"Alright."

"Did you get some olive oil?"

"Yes Mom.  What's going on?"

"Turn on the burner and get the pan hot.  Let's brown the meat."

"Yes, let us brown the meat.  Where's the flour?"

"I don't have any flour."

"Yes you do.  I bought some for you a couple of weeks ago when you were going to make your own papier mache."

"Oh that was a disaster."

"Who would have thunk that having a group of senior citizens who have never papier mache'd before attempt to make an Eiffel Tower wouldn't have gone well?"

"The balloons kept popping."

"You were using balloons?  How could you configure a tower out of balloons?"

"If you use enough balloons, it would work."

"It would have to be almost as tall as the building."

"Yes, we were trying to get into the paper.  Instead we got in trouble and everyone got a flyer jammed into their door saying we aren't allowed to papier mache anymore.  I'm pretty sure that banning us is against the Constitution."

"Yes, our fore fathers fought for the right for you to papier mache.  The flour?"

"It's in the cabinet under the microwave."

"Oh by your stash."

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing.  I'll just dust the meat with the flour and put some salt and pepper on it."

"Why are you doing that?"

"To make a crust."

"Who wants crusty meat?"

"I want to know who wants this meat in the first place."

"Never you mind, just make it crusty if it tastes good.  Did you bring that big pot?"

"Yes, got it right here.  Why we making a big hunk of meat?"

"You have the beef broth and ranch dressing mix?"

"Yes.  Meat's browned now."

"While you let it cool, chop up the potatoes and onion."

"Why didn't you just tell me to make you a pot roast?"

"'Cause I wanted to make it.  Chop those potatoes up a little smaller."

"Well thank God I'm not making this.  Now what?"

"Throw a stick of butter in the pot."

"No!  You don't put butter in pot roast."

"I put butter in everything I cook."

"You're cooking this?"

"Of course I am.  Now dump the potatoes and onion in there and stick the pot on the stove."

"Shouldn't I melt the butter before I do that?  And how about dusting some pepper and flour on them first?"

"What's this sudden need to dust everything with flour?"

"What's this sudden need for pot roast?"

"Now dump in the beef broth and ranch dressing mix."

"Ewwww..."

"Mind your own business.  The meat is cool enough now.  Get the garlic out of the ice box."

"What are you doing with garlic in the 'fridge?"

"Where else would I have it?"

"Well the average person would have it in the pantry, but you would have it nowhere.  You hate garlic."

"Garlic is the spice of love."

"....ohhhhhhhh.  So someone gave you this garlic."

"Would that be so strange?"

"Mom this whole thing is strange."

"Grab the ice pick out of the drawer."

"I didn't even know you had an ice pick."

"What did you think I used to poke holes in things?"

"I didn't think you had a whole lot of call for hole pokin'."

"Poke some holes in the meat and shove in the garlic."

::WHOMP::

"Good Lord you scared me!  Why did you hit the garlic?"

"I had to crack it open to separate the toes."

"Oh that's how it works.  I thought it was just one giant garlic."

"Mom you have never, ever used garlic before, why are you using it now?"

"A woman can experiment, can't she?  Now get the bacon out of the ice box."

"Why?  Are we going to eat it while the roast cooks?"

"No, you're going to poke some more holes in the meat and shove the bacon in."

"Mom, that sounds horrible."

"Shoving bacon inside of things is never horrible."

"This poor piece of meat has so many holes in it, it's going to turn into Swiss steak.  Ha!  Get it?"

"No.  Swiss steak has ketchup and grape jelly in it."

"Lord, I forgot about your Swiss steak.  Must be P.T.S.D."

"Who's Pete Estee?"

"It doesn't matter Mom."

"Do you think we should put some jelly on top?  I think I have some apple butter."

"Mom this poor piece of meat has been tortured enough."

"Okay, just throw it into the oven.  Did you bring the oven mits?"

"Yes.  It's shameful you don't have any."

"Why?  I haven't cooked in years."

"Pity you broke your streak by cooking this.  Meat's in the oven.  Now what?"

"You go home."

"What?!  I don't get to eat any ranch garlic bacon butter pot roast?"

"No.  Thank you and leave."

"Okay.  Don't go pokin' holes in anything I wouldn't."

"I'd ask you what that meant, but you've got to go now."

"I had no idea I had a pressing engagement."

"You do.  Now bye bye."

Bob's door:

Nothing says love quite like indigestion and a gall bladder attack