- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --
If it were me,
like, straight out of an action movie all bad ass,
I would walk up the stairs
to his apartment and be like,
"Yo, backup singer bitch."
"Open up!"
And as soon as she opens the door,
I'd be like...
Seriously?
You shot me.
_
What?
This is about that money pit you're dating.
It's not about the girls he's two-timing you with.
By "money pit" you mean the tone-deaf child
who uses concerts I bankroll as a personal pussy parade?
_
Dude, if you shot every girl that monster has ever slept with,
we're left with like, Sam.
_
And that's it.
Oh, no, and me.
Fine. I won't shoot her and her stupid ugly fat face.
What?
She surprised me.
Honey! I'm home.
Were we supposed to wear something under these?
Hey, babe, I see you met my backup singer.
She's out of the band.
Your guitar never sounded better!
Ahh.
Oh.
- Come on. - Seriously?
You surprise me. How thoughtful.
Gross.
- I'm going to finish you. - Really?
'Cause usually I have to do that myself afterwards.
I clothe you. I feed you.
I buy your fancy custom guitar picks.
I'm gonna need more of those, by the way.
And then I find a Myspace page
chronicling your rock 'n' roll sexcapades!
Babe!
I'm sorry, Jimmy.
There's no encore tonight.
Oh, now you go down.
- Dude. - What?
- That is totally unrealistic. - It's a fantasy.
Hmm. It's no fun if it could never happen.
I found it pretty satisfying.
You smudged.
Found it!
- It's gonna look so good. - Okay.
Fine, let's hear your fantasy.
But good luck coming up with something better
than stomach-fucking your boyfriend with his own guitar neck.
This is demeaning.
Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah!
I wouldn't do that.
Why? Did you poison it?
- No. I mean, mixing red and white. - Oh.
Chop-chop, ladies!
We have work to do.
Your fantasy is cooking him dinner?
What are you gonna do, kill him with cholesterol?
I'm not going to kill him.
I'm going to serve him his favorite dinner
and show him what women's lib is really about.
Places! Everyone. Roger will be home any minute.
You're so late, you must be famished.
Not hungry.
Hey. Hey! Hey!
What is this? What are... Hey! What are you doing?
I told you I was making dinner tonight.
I already ate.
Well... then you're gonna fucking eat again!
I have painstakingly prepared this amazing meal for you, Roger,
so that you would see what an amazing girlfriend I am to you, Roger.
Why don't you appreciate me, Roger?
See? Doesn't that feel better?
Yeah, it's better.
My fantasy now!
Great. Now I'm a prostitute.
- Shhhhh. - Babe.
- Are you all right? - Latin.
Latin. Latin. Latin. Latin. Latin. Latin. Latin.
Wait.
I was just folding your laundry.
Why am I tied up?
Is that firewood?
Why are the girls here?
Why is everyone in black?
Why are you chanting?
Why is Cher dressed like a prostitute?
Latin. Latin. Latin. Latin. Latin. Latin.
Oh, oh, no... I gotta get a new shirt.
I was gonna take you to that nice little French place tonight.
Oh, God, I'm so sorry,
does anyone have any club soda? I can get that right out.
_
That right reminded me of you.
When did you even do that?
Oh, God, why am I on fire?
Because you text me too much.
- He texts you too much? - Oh, my God, it's like non-stop.
"I'm thinking about you,
I'm going to the store, do you need any tampons?
I made a mash-up of what our children will look like,
aren't they adorable?"
So he's sweet and attentive, huh?
Maybe revenge isn't a good idea.
Maybe we should focus on empowerment.
It's like I once said: I'm tough, I'm ambitious,
and I know exactly what I want,
and if that makes me a bitch... okay.
Honey. That was Madonna.
Yeah, I don't really need to kill Jimmy.
He'll just starve without me anyway.
To Empowerment!
To us!
To popcorn! Let's make some.
So, what should we do with them?
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --