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: Where are your boob shirts?
[holds up Sarah's sweaters
: What? Carol
: Your *boob* shirts! Christine
: Don't worry, I brought some of mine!
: [Sarah is in the bath and not picking up the phone
] Sarah, it's me, Christine. Pick up. Come on, Sarah. I already talked to Dad. Sarah
: [sighs and answers the phone
] Who else knows? Christine
: No one. Sarah
: Come on, Carol has to know. Christine
: Why does Carol have to know? Couldn't I once know something before she does? Sarah
] She's there with you, isn't she? Christine
: No. Sarah
: Hello, Carol. Carol
: [small beat
] Hi, Sarah. I was telling Chris it's a shame I didn't know about this before because I would have called Uncle Chet. We could have doubled. Sarah
: Oh, no. This story is going to be immortalized into family history, isn't it? Told and retold at Thanksgiving dinner, year after year... Carol
: Oh, not just Thanksgiving. I think it's a good Christmas story to.
[both Carol and Christine laugh
: Bye guys. Christine
] Wait. Tell the truth. One a scale of one to ten how would you rate Dad as a date? Hot, super hot?
[Sarah hangs up
: He has balls of steel. Carol
: We're very proud.
: Hello! Don't worry, it's just me. I'm in the kitchen. I filled your freezer again. There's now enough meat to feed every guy who answered your ad and still...
[Walks in from the kitchen and sees Jake
: Whoa. Sarah
: Jake Anderson, my sister Carol. Jake did, in fact, answer the ad. Jake
: Do I get my meat?
[Carol tosses him the meat