Gwen: Now, Gavin, let’s try to remember what we discussed. Are you smiling for the paparazzi?
Gavin: Of course I’m smiling, darling. Do you think this is the first time I’ve had a baby? Or gone to a–
Gwen: Don’t you EVER bring up that bastard again. Kingston is your only legitimate heir. Are we clear?
Gavin: Yes, of course, Gwenny-Penny. (beat) So, do you think this is going to work?
Gwen: What are you bitching about now?
Gavin: I mean, this whole swap Kingston’s soul in exchange for reviving my pathetic career.
Gwen: Hello? Ever heard of something called MY career? I can’t sing, I can’t dance, I’m all gums, I’ve ripped off every two-bit ska and reggae band that’s ever existed…and look at me now! I have Japanese slaves who are not allowed to talk in public! I have my very own cheapo clothing line that’s made in Chinese sweatshops that I mark up by 8000 percent! “Love. Angel. Music. Baby.” went triple-platinum and it’s a piece of key-rapola! And Jamaica? I own Jamaica. Jamaica is my bitch. Satan RULES, man!
Gavin: You’re right, you’re always right. I can do all things through Satan who strengthens me.
Gwen: Atta boy. (to baby Kingston in cuchicoo voice) Ready to sell your soul to the devil? Yesyouare! Yesyouare, my cutiepatootie!
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