Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman (1976–1978)
[Martha rushes through the kitchen]
George Shumway: What's the matter? The house on fire?
Martha Shumway: It would be better for us all if it was!
Librarian: Do you know what aspects of venereal disease she wants books on?
Mary Hartman: Um, I think mostly on the disease itself. And how not to die from it.
Librarian: Perhaps it would be better if your friend came in herself.
Mary Hartman: She can't.
Mary Hartman: She's in traction.
Cathy Shumway: You know, isn't it ironic - that if one of us had to get it, it's a miracle it was you.
Mary Hartman: I know, I must have been born under an unlucky star. You know I have filled out entry blanks for every single drawing in the supermarket for the last twelve years, and the only thing I ever won was a coupon for a small little jar of tomato paste. But they were out of tomato paste, and by the time they got more in, my coupon had expired. And now I have venereal disease.
Martha Shumway: Now you listen here - there is nothing so bad that it can't be worse.
Charlie Haggers: That's a comforting thought, Martha.
Martha Shumway: That's why I'm here, Charlie. To comfort you.
Martha Shumway: Yes, yes, things can always be worse - like my uncle Wilbur, who used to work in a cardboard factory. He came home one day with a splinter in his finger - just a little bitty old splinter. But it turned out that he had blood poisoning.
Charlie Haggers: Well, that's terrible.
Martha Shumway: And next day, they amputated his leg.
Charlie Haggers: On account of a splinter in his finger?
Martha Shumway: Oh no, no, not because of that. They found a growth in his leg.
Mary Hartman: [Mary realizes she went to elementary school with the man who has kidnapped her] Remember me, Mary Shumway? Mary Shumway?