Michelle's refrigerator is hot inside, which is not how refrigerators act, and her oven starts hissing out gas immediately. When she wakes up, all the doors and windows are open, and she's hallucinated (probably) a strange bearded man who helped her get everything open before she passed out. It is the middle of the night, when Fanny comes in banging around.
Fanny: "It's like a storage facility in here! Why are the windows and doors open, it's freezing!"
Michelle: "I'm freezing, and the windows and doors are all open."
Fanny: "We've got to get out of this Möbius strip of a conversation or I'll scream..."
Michelle: "Get used to it, I'm slow to awaken."
Fanny: "We don't sleep together, why should I get used to it?"
Michelle explains about the bearded mystery man, which Fanny finds troubling indeed, and they move on to the newest problem
Fanny: "Did you pack this like this?"
Michelle: "No, my dirty little landlord did. He alphabetized my CDs, though. That's weird, right?"
Fanny: "I wouldn't wear any of this underwear until you wash it. Do you have hangers?"
Michelle: "You're very Peppy Miller."
Fanny: "I don't sleep much..."
Michelle: "But sleep is sublime! Often at night! Like right now!"
Fanny: "I sleep, but I only need two or three hours. And the middle of the night is the perfect time to get things done, when all the noises of the day have dissipated..."
Michelle begs her to stop touching her stuff, but Fanny does not stop or cease -- "If you don't unpack, all your stuff will smell like box!" -- and starts telling her a neat story about her childhood.
"This reminds me of when I first left home to study dance out of town. I was only sixteen. My God, can you imagine? Sixteen and out of the house. The week before I left, my mother gave me this book, How A Young Lady Should Do Things. It was this ancient little tiny leathery thing, I read it cover to cover. A lot of it was corny and out-of-date -- I mean, there was a chapter on how to look ladylike in a rumble seat -- but it was charming too. I learned housekeeping, etiquette, the best packing rules..."
She leaves off to yell at Michelle for having three tiaras at this point, but it's still nice to think about. I collect etiquette books, the older and cornier the better. "I will say it's nice to have someone to talk to," Fanny says, to the humped blanket that is Michelle. "It's so quiet around here in the middle of the night. Someone to talk to..."