DOB: (Waving her hand in the general direction of the front yard) What are those flowers?
UCC: (Trying to figure out what the fuck she’s pointed at) You must be looking at the red bottlebrush flowers.
DOB: I don’t know. What do they look like?
UCC: They’re red. And they’re shaped like bottlebrushes.
DOB: I don’t know.
WISIMH: Do you even pay attention to what comes out of your own mouth?