The Bad Hearer

Grace and Frankie 6×6

Joan-Margaret: Unfortunately, the words "privy," "loo," "commode," and "shitter" all tested better than the word "toilet."
Grace: Shitter beat toilet?!
Joan-Margaret: Not the way you say it. "Shitta" beat toilet.

Joan-Margaret: I'm afraid, ladies, we're sunk.
Grace: No, we're not. It's hard to market. It's a toilet. You know, if it was easy, every joker would be making one.

Grace: You had her test your date outfit?!
Frankie: Look, I've been texting and flirting with Jack for weeks. I've set the stage. But now I've got to go out and be Lady Gaga, because this guy is cool.
Grace: What do you mean? You're always the cool one in a relationship. You told me yourself.
Frankie: I tell you lots of things, Grace.

Nwabudike: Stop! Are tomatoes bad now? Let me check... "Are tomatoes bad now?" Oh, yes! They are. Wait. No, that's from 2014, hold on... Scrolling, scrolling, scrolling, ad, scrolling. Okay, tomatoes are good to go.

Frankie: I'm not everybody.
Jack: No, you're not. I've never been on a date with someone who fills up on mints from the host stand.
Frankie: Why would they have them up at the entrance if they didn't want you to start with them?
Grace: Well, you know, the entrance is also the exit.
Frankie: You're blowing my mind right now.

Sol: Robert... the first rule of cancer club is, uh... well, have cancer.

Grace: So, I was up all night...
Frankie: Ooh, lucky Nick.
Grace: Huh? Oh. Oh, he's fine. No, I was working.

Grace: What if Jack's secret is something bad?
Frankie: Oh. How bad could it be?
Grace: What if he's a flat-earther? What if he's a dog kicker?
Frankie: No, I asked him point-blank if he kicked dogs.
Grace: What if he doesn't believe in aliens?
Frankie: Oh, you shut your mouth.

Frankie: There's a special place in hell for women who don't help other women.

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