Drake: -lays silently on the couch- ..

Ethel: -walks upstairs and out the house door walking done the street- ..hm

Drake: -puts a hand on face rubbing temple- ..hm..

Ethel: why isn’t there any good butcher knife sharpeners..hmph... -throws he knife onto the wall next to a torso of a rival-

Drake: -sighs and puts the photo back in his pocket-