Leave me alone, for the nine thousandth time. It's my Emmy. Sure it says Jack's name on it, but he gave it to me. You understand me, some grandniece from South Nowhere? Your granduncle gave it to me. Me, Hecuba. Why? Wouldn't you give it away if you were grateful to the writer of the episode of "Chico And The Man" that earned you the award? Grateful to the man who sat down and dreamed up that speech where Ed ("The Man" to you babies in diapers out there) tells his buddy the cop how much he misses Chico now that he's in that "big barrio in the sky"? Sure you would.
Maybe you wouldn't because you're not a class act like Jonathan "Jack" Albertson, you're just some distant heir without a funny bone in your body trying to get back what you think is rightfully yours. Well, you can take it out of my cold dead hands... and they will be cold because I'lll give that trophy up when hell freezes over! (BUT HOW DO YOU REALLY FEEL?) That IS how I really feel! I'm sorry, I just get so mad at ingrates who never did anything in show business. Forgive me. I'll make nice tomorrow.
