Here now is the transcript of that conversation.
(sound of telephone ringing)
ER II: Oh, hullo George.
W: Hey, Queenie! How's it hanging?
ER II: We don't do that here George; here we make people go on Big Brother until they die of humiliation.
W: Oh yeah, I forgot. Hey, by the way, sorry again for ripping up your roses when we visited...
ER II: We planted new ones, and they're beautiful.
W: ...and ripping up the rugs, drilling through your walls, oh, and punching the hole in that painting...
ER II: Rugs can be repaired, holes can be filled, and it turns out the painting wasn't a Rubens at all, which we would never have known if your Secret Service hadn't been playing baseball indoors.
W: ...and that slip about your age when you were here?
ER II: Oh, I've forgotten all about that. Besides, today I feel nearly three hundred years old.
W: Problems, Queenie?
ER II: (sigh) Yes. I'm afraid Canada doesn't want me anymore.
W: You mean...?
ER II: Yes George.
W: Cool! Now I get to try out the new Invade-a-tron 3000 the Pentagon developed.
ER II: Happy Christmas, George.
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