JUDY has just told her husband GREG about her idea of taking in a foster teenager.
GREG: You think a foster kid now is like a foster kid when we were growing up? No way. It's all drugs now. And other weird shit.
JUDY: Remember how we weren't going to use that kind of negative language in our home.
GREG: I guarantee if we bring in a foster kid, everything in this house will turn negative. I should know. I made Ward's life a living hell for years.
JUDY: He survived.
GREG: I don't want to survive. I want to be happy. You think that's selfish. But, dammit, it's my turn to be happy and I want my turn.
JUDY: What if we just try.
GREG: You told me we were just going to try that blind, diabetic dog with the hip dysplasia . . .
JUDY: That's different.
GREG: How is it different? The foster kid won't pee on the rug? We already have five cats and three dogs because you can't say "no" to any stray. (a beat) Your mother thinks I'm just another one of your strays.
JUDY: That's why you would be so good at this.
GREG: Because I'm a stray?
JUDY: Because you know what it's like to always sleep on a hide-a-bed.
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