Gerald Whitehead: Maude.
Duchess: Jerry. To what do I owe the pleasure?
Gerald Whitehead: Not a social call, Maude. They're coming.
Duchess: You want to be more specific? They who?
Gerald Whitehead: BADTFL.
Duchess: The Bureau of Alcohol, Drugs, and No Fun is paying Welch a visit? Says who?
Gerald Whitehead: Says me, Duchess. You need to skip town ASAP.
Duchess: You're a crooked cop, Gerald. Associating with known smugglers of firearms and illicit substances. How can you be trusted?
Gerald Whitehead: Why are you making this so hard? I'm trying to keep you out of jail.
Duchess: Gerald, please. This hurts to watch. Can we just be honest with each other? I'll start.
Gerald Whitehead: What're you...
Duchess: My friends, plural, at the bureau say you've been making some big claims about this Appalachian drug kingpin you're about to bring in. The one you're trying to get rid of so your new friends from Charleston can take her territory. But wouldn't you know, all that extra yammering got them looking into your finances. And your house. And your car. And they didn't like what they found. So yes, Gerald, they're coming. But no one's coming looking for me.