Tinsdale: Won’t you play for me again, please?
Helen: Really? Are you sure? Because I think I could play much better than I did yesterday. I was very flustered…well, I wasn’t very flustered, but I was pretty flustered, that’s why I think I’m sure…well, I’m really sure that I think I could play much better because I’m not as flustered—
Mrs. Tinsdale (yells from the bedroom off camera): Play the damn thing!
Fay: Roy, I’m not feeling very well. Why don’t we do this tomorrow?
Roy: You saw something, Fay. Now what was it?
Fay: No, no, no, nothing. Absolutely nothing. It wasn’t the death card—
Roy (shocked): It was, too. It was the death card.
Fay: No, it was the, uh, cheese card.
Roy (incredulous): The cheese card?
Fay: The cheese card. It means you’re going to buy more airplanes and become an even bigger cheese around here.
Brian: Then, she finished playing, and he just stared at her, kinda like the way you stare at a bug after it splattered on your windshield. And then he told her: she played better the first time.
Fay: Poor Helen.
Joe: I’m worried about her. She must be totally devastated.
Helen (cheerfully enters the terminal and walks behind the counter): Good morning! Isn’t it a beautiful day?
Lowell: God, it kills me to see her like this.
Helen: I figured it out. Practicing two hours a day, I have put over 10,000 hours of my life into that cello. Do you realize how many hours that is?
Lowell: Unless this is a trick question, I’d say…10,000?
Tinsdale: I may have left you the other evening with the impression that your musical ability is non-existent. That is not quite true. I believe that you possess a glimmer of talent.
Helen: A glimmer?
Tinsdale: Yes. The tiniest of glimmers, but it is there.
Helen: No. You cannot be saying this because, see, I just got my life back—
Tinsdale: Of course, it means that you’ll have to practice four, maybe five, hours a day religiously, but I believe that there’s a chance over the next few years—
Helen: You told me I stink.
Tinsdale: Oh, but you don’t.
Helen: Oh, yes, I do. Completely and totally. Pee-yew! You said no self-respecting orchestra would have me.
Tinsdale: I exaggerated. I apologize.
Helen: No, you can’t be saying this. You said that I didn’t have a chance.
Tinsdale: But you do.
Helen (grabs Tinsdale by the lapels): Take it back! You can’t give me hope! What kind of monster are you?
Helen: What am I going to do? I’m cursed with a glimmer of talent. I’m going to be chained to that instrument for the rest of my life. Good-bye, walks on the beach. Good-bye, fingernails. Good-bye, life.
Joe (to Brian): Think she’s going to be alright?
Brian: She’ll be fine.
Joe: I don’t know. I’ve never seen her like this before.
Brian: You don’t think she’s going to do anything desperate?
(Off-screen sound of scales being played on a cello.)