(Brass and Grissom watch and listen on the monitors when Binky and Doris talk in one of their rooms)
Doris: That's why you did it. That's why you fed me the shrimp.
Binky: I feed you shrimps because I love you. And you love shrimp, no?
Doris: Don't play dumb with me, George. Somehow you figured out that Happy was allergic.
Binky: Oh, you crazy talk, crazy.
Doris: No, it's all clear to me now. How long have you known?
Binky: Known about what?
Doris: About me and Happy.
Binky: Oh, you were doing boxer?
Doris: Screw you, George. You know damn well I was.
Binky: I don't care if you have your flingy-flingys. We're living in America, no? I mean everybody's entitled to pursuit of happy. What's done is done, Doris. He was turning into big drag. He's dead now. May God take his soul and rest.
Doris: You're setting me up, George.
Binky: I ... (Binky turns and notices the mic. He shushes Doris)
Doris: Now don't you shush me, George. You know what? You've pulled some really out-to-lunch crap in your life, George, but this ... is ... (Binky grabs her face and turns her head and points to the mic. She stops)
Binky: What you just said ...
Doris: I didn't mean it. That was just crazy talk. Yeah. I mean, nobody would ever possibly believe, not for a single solitary moment, I mean not for a single solitary moment, that you, that I, that Happy ...
Binky: Oh, come here, baby, baby, come. (Binky awkwardly holds Doris)
Doris: Oh. I love you.
Binky: I love you.
Doris: I love you.
Brass (comes in): And I love you both.
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Thursday
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Friday
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