[ROBYN suddenly enters Ackloo kitchen, where caterers are staging hors d'oeuvres for fancy executive shindig. WAITER 1 and WAITER 2 are engaged in conversation.]
ROBYN (with unmitigated enthusiasm): Oh WOW! These snacks are no joke! I love food on tiny bread!
[WAITER 1 and WAITER 2 look at her, then resume conversation.]
WAITER 1: Yeah, so anyway, my mom died two years ago. Esophageal cancer.
WAITER 2: Oh man, I'm so sorry. How's your dad doing?
WAITER 1: Well, they were pretty much best friends, so...
[ROBYN grabs canapé and slinks away.]