Clerk: Here's that map you asked for, ma'am. Mildred: Thank you. Clerk: May I ask why you're headed to Lucia? Mildred: That seems like a rather personal question now, doesn't it? Clerk: Sorry. Mildred: Clearly, your tumescence has distracted you, sir. I recall asking for today's local paper. Clerk: Oh, sorry. Here you go. Yeah, it's big news around here. Everybody's up in arms. A fella cuts up a bunch of priests and they ship him up to Lucia. Hey, that's where you're headed. You're not some sort of journalist, or something, are you? Mildred: You should bathe more often. Your finger nails are filthy.
Bucket: Where did you get this? Mildred: You must be the head nurse. Mildred Ratched. Bucket: I didn't ask what your name was. Where did you get the letter? Mildred: Why, it was sent to me. Bucket: That's where I'm confused because there is no one in his office, except for Dr. Hanover and myself. I didn't send that, and I can assure you, that isn't Dr. Hanover's signature. Mildred: I have come quit a long way, and would just like to speak with him. Bucket: Dr. Hanover is out of the office until later this afternoon. If you'd like to leave a number... Mildred: If you don't mind, I'd prefer to wait here. Bucket: He'll be gone some time. Mildred: You just said he'd be back in the afternoon. Bucket: It could be longer. Mildred: Then it could be shorter by your own logic. I truly don't mind waiting. I have nowhere else to be. Bucket: Very well.