𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧' ━ F.R.I.E.N.D.S. [Joey Tribbiani]

04; The One With George Stephanopoulos

Lisa continued to plate up the popcorn she had bought, flavors of salt, caramel and cheese aligned in slightly larger bowls.

Monica was blending the Tiki Death punch while Pheobe was setting down the glasses.

Rachel walked in with a frown on her face, closing the door behind her.

"Hey, Rach," Lisa greeted her with a cheeky smile. "How was it with your friends?"

Pheobe, Monica and Lisa put their hands up and shrieked like little girls, stopping once she stared at them tiredly.

Monica smiles, pouring some of the punch into a glass. "Okay. How would you like some Tiki Death Punch?"

"What's that?" Rachel asked.

"Well, it's rum and-"

"Okay," Rachel grabbed the blender itself and a straw and began drinking from it.

"Now that's how you start a sleepover!" Lisa cheered.

Monica laughed. "We thought since Phoebe was staying over tonight we'd have kinda like a slumber party thing. We got some trashy magazines, we got cookie dough, we got Twister..."

Monica stopped talking as the telephone rang, interrupting her. She left the bowl of cookie dough and picked up the phone, so Lisa decided to grab a spoon and dig in.

"Ooh! Ooh!" Pheobe held up the game 'Operation' with an excited smile on her face. "And I brought Operation! But, um, I lost the tweezers, so we can't operate. But we can prep the guy!"

Lisa snorted. "Prep him for what?"

Pheobe just smiled at her before winking, making both of them chuckle.

"Uh, Rach, it's the Visa card people," Monica said, putting the phone away from her ear and looking at the girl.

"Oh, God," Rachel sighed. "Ask them what they want."

Monica placed her ear back on the phone and asked, "Could you please tell me what this is in reference to?"

She listened to the person's response before looking at Rachel. "Um, they say there's been some unusual activity on your account."

"But I haven't used my card in weeks!" Rachel argued, confused.

"That is the unusual activity," Monica deadpanned. Rachel rolled her eyes as Lisa and Pheobe let out small laughs. "Look, they just wanna see if you're okay."

"They wanna know if I'm okay," Rachel repeated exasperated.

"Oh, God, we're screwed," Lisa mumbled.

"Okay...they wanna know if I'm okay, okay, let's see," Rachel began listing the problems in her life, holding up a finger as she counted them. "Well, let's see, the FICA guys took all my money, everyone I know is either getting married, or getting promoted, or getting pregnant, and I'm getting coffee! And it's not even for me! So if that sounds like I'm okay, okay, then you can tell them I'm okay, okay?"