-
Well I can tell you're not in bed.
-
That's right, Britta.
-
I'm pretending to be violently ill
-
to avoid lifting a few boxes.
-
Because I'm 13.
-
And who's your primary care physician, Mr. Winger?
-
Uh, Dr. Schroder. S-c-h.
-
Um, do you want to see my insurance card?
-
Please.
-
Wait, are you at a hospital?
-
No, I'm at the GAP.
-
You hear that?