MICHELLE: Shoulders back, darling.
DAUGHTER: How come you got to wear an evening gown and I got this yellow…thing?
MICHELLE: One day when you become an international movie star, you too will wear the good stuff. And straighten out your ankle, dear, you look like a gimp.
DAUGHTER: Is this dress even couture? It kinda looks like Haute Goodwill.
MICHELLE: Of course it’s couture! And I think the color is splendid on you.
DAUGHTER: It’s the color of vomit.
MICHELLE: No it’s not.
DAUGHTER: Okay, then…it’s a Big Bird suit.
MICHELLE: You’re wearing Dior Haute Couture at the Dior show. Show some gratitude and a little smile, won’t you?
DAUGHTER: I would smile if a little part of me didn’t die every time I was photographed next to you. You always look awesome and I look, like, whatever, and people think, Is that poor girl adopted? It’s a bummer. I hate having a MILF for a mother. I feel like your ugly duckling. Oh god, that’s it! This outfit is Galliano’s cruel joke on me. I am an ugly yellow…duck. Quack, quack!!
MICHELLE: Okay, that’s quite enough. Time for your happy pill! (to photographer) Just take the picture.
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