Emily har lurat iväg Lorelai till ett spa för lite mother-daughter-time och Lorelai ägnar största delen av tiden åt att pusta och frusta.
Emily: You're just determined to spoil this, aren't you, Lorelai?
Lorelai: Why, because I want a quiet, private massage?
Emily: You've been pouting and sulking and sighing.
Lorelai: Oh, I have not been sighing.
Emily: Rolling your eyes, mumbling.
Lorelai: Well, that's how I detox.
Emily: Ever since we got here, you've made it your mission to be as miserable as possible.
Lorelai: That's not true.
Emily: It's completely true. And if you don't care that you're hurting my feelings, maybe you care that you're wasting all your relaxing time acting like a petulant four-year-old.
Lorelai: Well, I'm sorry.
Emily: Do you want me to try to get myself another room?
Lorelai: No.
Emily: I saw a supply closet down the hall. Maybe my masseur could finish me in there.
Lorelai: Okay, Mom.
Emily: Or perhaps I could just roll myself against a stucco wall, eliminate the need for a masseur altogether.
Lorelai: Lie down Mom, please.
Emily: If you say so. Lorelai?
Lorelai: Yes, Mom?
Emily: Would you go get the boys, please?
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