INTERIOR, DRAPER KITCHEN
Betty is KNEELING, her head deep in the oven. Don walks in, sees her, and RUSHES over.
Betty don’t do it! Think of the kids! For God’s sake pull yourself together!
Betty withdraws, LOOKS UP quizzically. She puts her cigarette to her lips.
Don — the oven’s on the fritz. What am I going to do? We have that big dinner party on Sunday.
Don leans against the counter, relieved.
Maybe it’s time to get a microwave, Betts.
I’m not so sure. Francine got one and the first thing she tried to cook exploded.
Don WALKS over to the telephone.
You’re not Francine. I’ll call the dealer.
Betty RISES, looks forlornly out of the window.
But we’re having roast beef, a standing rib roast and a pineapple glazed ham.
CLOSE-UP to Betty’s face as she TURNS to face Don.
It won’t all fit!
Don HOLDS the phone to his chest and CLOSES his eyes.
You’ll make it work Betts.
Don LOOKS at his watch.
Look — I have to go to the office. I have a lot of work to do. Don’t wait up.
CAMERA PANS OUT as Don WALKS into the living room, PATTING Bobby on the head. He stops by the coffee table, PICKS UP his drink and DRAINS it in one go. Betty STANDS in the kitchen with a blank look on her face as she PUFFS her cigarette.
Microwave Cookbook, JC Penney