BROOKE: The show can’t be canceled! I’m Brooke Shields, dammit!
LINDSAY: I heard it is.
BROOKE: Is not!
LINDSAY: Is too!
KIM: Guys. Stop. What are you fighting about anyway?
LINDSAY: For some reason, Brooke is convinced that the show isn’t canceled. And I told her denial is a helluva drug.
LINDSAY: Well, yeah, that’s a factor.
KIM: Mushy Lips?
LINDSAY and BROOKE: (in unison) Andrew McCarthy.
KIM: That’s so mean. He’s not that bad.
LINDSAY: Shut up! That’s easy for you to say!
KIM: Excuse me?
LINDSAY: You get to rub yourself on what’s-his-pants all day, every day! It’s not fair.
KIM: Wait. Why do you keep saying that? You sound crazy. Like, uh, Brooke Shields-crazy.
BROOKE: Well, I’m the star, obviously. And I went to Princeton.
KIM: So what?
BROOKE: Oh, shut up and get another terrible nose job.
KIM: (gasps, runs out of the room crying)
LINDSAY: You just crossed the line.
BROOKE: Oh, puhleeze. Tom Cruise said worse crap about me and I still went to his wedding and we’ve pretended that we’re besties ever since. Because I’m Brooke Shields, and what I say goes. And if I say the show must go on, the show must go on, despite dismal ratings or whatever the so-called “network” is telling the so-called “media” about this so-called “cancellation” business. Who are these people anyway? I don’t know these people. But do they know who I am? I mean, I’m–
LINDSAY: You’re Brooke Shields, dammit. Yeah. I got that.
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