The category is Femme Queen Virgin Runway.
First time walking a ball!
Behold the new daughters, ladies and gentlemen.
These are the up-and-coming pretty girls,
and here they come.
I want you all to meet
the future of our community.
Giving you all-day Spanish Harlem realness.
Come through,
judges score her: ten, ten, ten, nine, nine.
That did you all right, stand to the side.
And here she come, honey, a botanical beauty.
Come through, mellow yellow.
Oh, mama, you look great.
Big feet and all, honey.
She's got the look of a model, but the walk of a duck.
All right, I see eight, eight, eight, eight, eight.
Remember, these are virgins, babies.
It's not their fault, they're trying.
Yes! I know that's right, darling.
Mother Africa giving you soul glow versus Soul Train.
Judges score her: eight, nine, nine, nine, eight.
Are they not divine? Give them all a round of applause.
Anybody else walking?
Anybody else coming through?
Ooh, now who do we have over here?
Whoa, whoa, whoa, what is this?
Wait a minute, honey, looks like Cinderella came
to the ball after midnight.
Cut the music, baby.
Cut the music. Cut the music.
What do we got here?
Blanca, my name is Blanca. I'm from the Bronx.
Miss Blanca, where is your mother?
- Whose child is this? - I don't have a mother
- or a father. - Oh, we can all see that, baby.
Ain't no mother would send her daughter out there
with that cheap Shake-N-Go wig.
Can somebody please adopt this child?
UNICEF? Somebody help her.
The category is Virgin Runway, sweetheart,
not a little drag-in-a-box left at the fire station, honey.
Somebody help her.
Please help this girl. Look at her shoes!
That dress.
I can't with the wig, honey.
Help this... oh, she coming.
Can I have my scores, please?
All right, judges. You heard Little Orphan Annie.
Can we get these scores?
Seven, seven, six, six, six.
Bye-bye, Blanca! Maybe next time, sweetheart.
Like my girlfriend says,
it takes nerve to walk a ball,
but Blanca, bitch, you had nerve.
Ladies and gentlemen, we have our grand prize winner, Leesa!
Congratulations, girl, like...
Oh, my God, oh, my God,
did you guys catch that stubble under those lights?
Ooh.
Catch it? She basically cut my cheek
when she went in for a kiss.
- I feel attacked. - Girl, what was she thinking?
- I don't know. - I think she came at the wrong category.
This was not Butch Queen Up in Drags, right? Uh...
Butch queen, huh?
So is this what sisterhood looks like?
A bunch of birds clipping each other's wings?
Well, first off, you have to be a girl to be a sister, mister.
And who are you to talk?
You are so ghastly,
you could walk into the haunted house
and leave with a job application.
Those reads are so tired,
like that sad rag on top of your head. Ah!
You know what? Those are fighting words.
- You want to brawl? - Boy, bring it.
Now, Kisha.
Who are you calling a boy?
Your real hair's so short, you could roll it with rice.
And what is that on your lips, Leesa?
Oh, it's just your favorite lip gloss.
Sperm.
Why don't you low-rent, bad-handjob-giving hookers
run back to the pier where you belong
with the rest of the city vermin.
Um... thank you, Miss Elektra.
I'm sorry a legend like you had to be
in the presence of such pettiness.
I'm surprised you know who I am.
Clearly, this was your first ball.
I'm grateful you came to my rescue,
considering how poorly I scored.
Anyways, I'll get out of your hair and I'll be on my way.
I cannot hear a thing you're saying
over the protests of your stomach.
When did you last eat?
Mmm.
There really is no rush.
Indigestion isn't flattering.
I'm sorry.
I haven't had something warm in a minute.
So what's your story?
Let me guess.
Mommy kicked you out after catching you in a dress.
Where are you staying?
Usually at Washington Square.
Some nights I get a bed at the youth shelter.
What possessed you tonight?
I wanted to be pretty, to be seen.
To belong, I guess.
I thought this community would see me and want me.
I know I wasn't great,
and I know I don't have my look all the way put together,
but it felt warm under those lights.
You do have potential.
We just have to work on your look before you
ever step foot in front of those shady bitches.
Can I be honest with you?
I don't think I'll ever be as real as you.
No one questions you or looks at you like they do me.
It's not that I give a fuck about what people think,
but I do want to be seen and respected as a woman.
That's who I see myself to be.
You think I just woke up one day and poof,
I look like this? No.
It takes work, drive,
sacrifice to be a woman.
You have something rarer than beauty, though.
You have heart
and you're not afraid to lead with it.
That quality will get you everything.
Now, what is it you want, my child?
I don't want to be cold again.
And I don't want to be laughed at again.
I want to be real.
You're coming home with mother.
- Check, please. - Wait, you want to be my mother?
No.
I am your mother.
The category is...
Live...
Work...
Pose!
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --
Papi.
- Papi. - Hmm?
I told you to dust out the living area.
- I did. - So how come those shelves
still got an inch of filth on them?
You wanted me to do the shelves, too?
I'm your mother, not your maid.
Spring cleaning is gonna be a tradition around here
just like any other holiday.
I like Christmas better.
How'd you clean this room so fast?
I'm efficient.
Oh, get your ass up
and clean this room right.
And why are you back?
I thought your yuppie white boy got you a fancy apartment.
She mad at him 'cause he lame.
This is a A-B conversation,
so "C" your way out.
No, don't tell me.
You asked him to leave his wife and he said no.
Not exactly.
He's committed to her. And that's the problem.
He needs to know I ain't no side chick.
And if he wants Angel, he needs to commit, full time.
So let me get this straight.
To prove how mad you are,
you moved out of your luxury co-op
to come back here in this creaky-ass apartment?
Yup. I'm playing hard to get.
And how does that affect him?
He's gonna miss me so bad,
he is going to beg me to come back.
We're not done here.
Hello?
Are you okay? What-what is it?
That was a ca...
a call from my friend from-from my old hood.
My mother died.
Is Carmen home?
Ma!
Some lady's at the door for you.
Who is it?
Not sure I'd recognize you
if we walked past each other in Key Food.
- Who's at the door? - It's my brother!
Why didn't you call to tell me that Mami died?
I sent you a Christmas card with my number and everything.
Must've got lost in the mail.
I'll be there at the funeral home on Thursday.
I was one of her kids, too.
You made your choice, Mateo.
- That's not my name, Carmen. - Whatever you're calling yourself,
this ain't the time for your confusion.
Mami suffered enough.
You're still blaming me for her pain.
Where were you when Mami had all her appointments?
- Or when she was up all night in pain? - You're right!
I wasn't around, and I'm sorry.
But how am I supposed to show up?
You won't even invite me in.
I don't know what you are.
Tell me how to explain
to a ten-year-old that her uncle is gay,
and runs around in women's clothes.
You tell her the truth.
You tell her that I am a woman.
And how am I supposed to explain to the family
that you're not dead?
You told them I died?
No. Mami did.
Right.
I pray for you, Mateo.
You save your prayers
for someone who actually needs them.
Ooh, ooh!
My cooking is as good as the Puerto Rican restaurant.
Yeah. It's just missing a little something.
This is the recipe you gave me.
It takes a couple of times to perfect.
My mother made the best pasteles.
I loved our kitchen time.
When you're competing with two older siblings for attention,
you don't get a lot of alone moments.
But cooking?
That was our special time.
Girl, it can't taste that bad.
I miss her.
You'll always have the memories.
Yeah. The good and the bad.
Yes, ma'am.
You know, that's the burden of having a parent.
They haven't a clue what they're doing.
And every mistake they make chips away at us.
As we get older, we got to glue the pieces back together.
And we can blame them.
But here's the thing.
They're human.
They make mistakes.
When my daddy died, I...
I went through it.
I blamed myself for all the...
black eyes
and lost time.
Have you found forgiveness?
Oh, it depends on the day.
I feel you.
I don't know, Pray, it just...
it don't feel right, attending the funeral
of a woman who rejected me.
You're a mother now. You have to be an example.
You got to teach these kids how to handle death.
Pray Tell, all my relatives will be there.
I don't need the drama.
You have us now.
Your real family.
And we will be standing there right beside you.
Girl...
Oh, God, I wish that I would've gone
to my father's funeral.
Maybe the wounds would've healed quicker.
They started a while ago.
No such thing as late when you close like I do.
Mr. Trump decided to join the meeting.
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit, shit.
Hey. Boss still in there?
No. He asked about you, though.
- Nice work, Stan. Congrats. - Thanks.
Let's get a bite at the Oak Room later this week.
Congrats for what?
The boy wonder got a promotion.
We get to see how big his dick is in the VP bathroom.
See you.
How long has this been in the works?
Not long. Like, a few weeks, maybe.
I'm your mentor.
I hired you, New Jersey.
Are you in on the Plaza Hotel deal now?
Yeah.
I thought you would be happy about it.
It's good when a bet you make pays off.
Why the fuck would I be happy about it?
Do you fucking know me at all?
There are only so many points in a deal like the Plaza.
You coming on that deal
is you literally stealing money from my pocket.
This is a zero-sum game to me.
Matt.
I'm grateful to you.
I learn a lot from you,
and the last thing I wanted to do here
was show you any disrespect.
No, what you showed me is exactly who you are.
And now I'll show you exactly who I am.
The category is...
Perfect Tens.
You must have face,
body and realness.
You got something to tuck?
That shit better be streamlined into invisibility.
You have to pass in every way, bitches.
Your hair has to pass.
Your clothes have to pass.
Your makeup has to pass.
Your face has to pass.
Passing is your gateway into the mainstream.
You want an invitation into that magical world?
You had best come immaculate.
This is a category for real women only.
If you ain't Diana fucking Ross
ready to sing the "Theme to Mahogany,"
don't you step foot on that floor.
God hath bestowed upon you a great many gifts.
Charm, beauty, sensuality.
But the thing that you can thank Him for
is that He made you a woman.
Perfection.
Shine, woman.
Glow, woman.
Give us permission to celebrate you
in all your feminine glory.
I take no pleasure in telling you this.
Don't think I didn't struggle before deciding to do it.
I'm sure you struggled plenty.
I'm here because I need your help.
This woman, whoever she is, he's obsessed with her.
It's getting in the way of his work.
He's coming in late, he's leaving early.
Sloppiness.
Don't act like this is coming out of the blue.
When I was here at Christmas, you were suspecting something.
When you were here on Christmas, you kissed me.
I believe you, I just don't trust you.
That's where she lives.
I followed him after work.
My number's on the other side of that card.
Call me if you need to talk.
Or if you just want to come into the city and grab a drink.
Even if I wasn't with Stan,
I would never be with you.
I want you to know that.
I'm not just some dopey Jersey housewife.
I am not trapped in this life. I choose it.
Okay.
Then, if, when you decide
that I'm telling the truth about what your husband is up to,
and you decide to choose a different life,
one where you need to make your own money, call me.
I'm always looking to hire new talent.
The woman that lives in that place,
she moved out a couple of weeks ago.
I mean, the rent's paid up for three months, so,
you know, I haven't taken her name off the list yet.
Now, you friends with her, uh... ?
Um, whose name is on the lease?
- Sorry? - Is Angel's name on the lease,
or-or did-did someone cosign with her?
Well, yeah, it's confidential information.
Mm.
Could-could you just check for me?
I... I want to know if my husband's name is on the lease.
Stan Bowes. I'm Patty Bowes.
Here's my driver's license.
Come into my office.
You sure you want to know this?
I think so.
Why? You think I'm doing the wrong thing?
Look, I got four daughters. Right?
If you were one of them, yeah, I'd tell you to know.
It's, uh, yeah.
Did Angel leave a forwarding address?
Yes, yes, yes, give it to her!
Give it to her!
Show some love, bitches! Show some love!
I can't hear you!
You ready, girl?
Always.
Yes, baby?
- Without Elektra? - Mm-hmm.
Silence!
Clear the floor, children. Clear the floor.
We've got ourselves a challenge on this evening.
For the House of Mugler!
From Elektra's legendary children.
We are more than Elektra's goddamn children, Pray Tell.
Say our names.
Oh.
I stand corrected.
Miss Candy.
House of Mugler, do you accept this challenge
from the House of Abundance?
Honey, we never back down from a challenge.
Ever!
And you.
Them is fighting words, bitches!
The category is...
Modèle Effet.
As a house, I need to see the pages
of Anna Wintour's new Vogue coming to life.
Come on, look at Miss Candy.
Serving us 1988
working girl on a mission.
And Mother Mugler in her best
Love Boat inspired couture.
And where are the children?
Do I see any children in the house?
Oh, oh, and they have arrived.
Yes, yes, yes, I know that we have good weather,
but why are you wearing that pleather?
Looking like a baby dyke Don Corleone.
Oh, what?
With skin like that, honey, why are you wearing that color?
You should stick to jewel tones, baby.
What do we got?
Uh, oh, oh, oh!
No weave, bitches.
No extensions!
Just pure, unadulterated Modèle Effet.
Ooh, it's so hot in here, y'all ready for some scores?
I can't hear you. Y'all ready for some scores?
Yes!
Come on, line it up. Line it up.
All right, so, for the House of Mugler, what are your scores?
Ten, ten, ten, ten,
nine!
There's a small margin of error.
All right, House of Abundance.
Judges, your scores.
Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten.
Oh, work it out.
First runner up, House of Mugler.
Grand prize, House of Abundance.
Yes, motherfuckers!
We did it.
The cards never lie, my darling.
The cards never lie.
Behold, Miss Lulu and Miss Candy,
two up-and-coming mothers in the making.
Miss Elektra, you better get on up out of that hospital bed
and come on and reclaim your house.
Miss Elektra, you have a visitor.
Is now a good time?
"Good time"? More like it's about time.
What the fuck are you doing here?
Is there a problem?
No problem.
That's just the way she speaks when she's happy.
She can stay. As the World Turns is over
and television is a wasteland until the evening news.
Who sent you these?
- My gentleman friend. - Nah, if they were from him,
this whole room would be filled with them.
I'm guessing you bought those for yourself.
You're the last person I expected to see here.
Isn't there a sale going on down at the Payless
you should be attending?
Oh, look at you. Still talking big game
even though you just went through the most
meaningful experience in your life
and not one person has come to celebrate with you
or look after you while you're in pain.
Don't think they won't pay for their mistreatment.
See, that's your problem.
This whole room should be filled with laughing girls
and balloons and children doing their mother's hair.
But all anyone wants to give you is payback.
You're a terrible mother.
And that's exactly what you get.
My legendary house and its children
have snagged more trophies than anyone.
But you're not kind.
You don't care for them, Elektra.
You're not walking the walk in our community.
You're rich. You're beautiful.
You pass.
You think that makes you better than us.
Because I am.
I have always been a survivor.
- I wouldn't bet against me. - I pity you.
Life comes for all of us, Elektra.
And it comes hardest for the ones
who think they're above it all.
Is this why you're here?
To be the little devil on my shoulder
whispering warnings in my ear?
No.
I'm here because in my life I've had two mothers.
The one that brought me into this world and you.
The first one...
the first one died just this week...
... before she could forgive me, before I could forgive her.
And you and I, we got our problems.
Enough water under the bridge to drown this whole city.
And the world may have destroyed the version of you
who saved me that night outside the ball
and took me under your wing,
but you're the only mother I have left.
You may be a terrible mother, but that don't mean
I can't be the loving daughter I want to be.
I'll call a nurse to get a vase for those flowers,
even though they're from a deli.
So how does it feel?
It hurts worse than I ever imagined.
But it also feels better than I've ever dreamed.
We made a mistake coming.
This is not about them.
You came to make peace with your mama.
Come on.
Come on, come on, come on.
What are you doing here?
I have a right to be here to say good-bye.
Oh, my God, is that Mateo?
You need to go.
- Now. - Manuel, get off.
Manny, por favor, not today.
Let him say good-bye and then he'll go.
Kindness doesn't cost you anything.
Let her say good-bye.
Take your time, baby.
Hi, Mami.
It's been a while.
I'm... I'm a mother now.
I got a house of kids.
Pains in my ass, too.
So I hope, finally, you're proud of me, wherever you are.
I said some messed up things the last time we spoke.
And I hope you know that I'll always love you.
I know you didn't know how to raise a child like me.
You tried your best,
and I want you to know that I forgive you
and... I love you.
Let's go.
I can't believe Mateo grew up to be a transvestite.
Pobrecito needs a better wig.
A child lost her mother today
and I would expect someone who espouses
the word of the Lord to have a
little bit more compassion.
She's not defined by that wig on her head
any more than you are by that frizzy perm.
You're so strong.
Well, I couldn't have done it.
I would've been too scared.
You maintained your dignity and I'm proud of you.
It's okay. It's okay.
That's all right. Let it out.
Let it out.
Yo, I can call my homeboy
to jump whoever you want for, like, a Benjamin.
- Boy. - I'm for reals.
Nah, we good. We all good.
Mateo.
My name is Blanca now.
Blanca.
There's a gathering at your mother's after the wake.
You should come.
Have some food.
So when was the last time you were here?
Um...
October 30, 1982.
Oh.
Did she ever talk about what happened?
No. Not to me.
My sister was always very private with her emotions.
Except for when she was cooking.
That's how she expressed love.
Don't I know it. Have you seen these nalgas?
But you, you're so skinny, are you getting enough to eat?
- I think I... - I mean, come on, look at this.
There's no nalgas there. What's going on?
Come, make yourself a nice, big plate.
There's plenty of food.
Are you leaving?
I'm making a plate to go.
What's that?
Mami's recipes.
I'm gonna take it.
Nah, put it back.
Carmen and I haven't decided what we're selling
and what we're giving away.
You can do whatever you want with the rest of her stuff.
I just want the notebook.
Just put the notebook back.
I can't have her recipes,
but you're already sporting her jewelry?
Mami gave her that before she died.
If you'd have been a better son, she would've left you something.
Aren't you the one that they had to take to rehab twice?
Nobody wants you here, child molester.
I know all about how you fags
corrupt kids.
Mami, what's happening?
Xiomara, vete. Go to your room.
You see what you're doing?
Upsetting everybody?
Manny, that's enough. You should go.
We should have gone to the hospital.
Boy, shut up.
What the hell?
Look who we have here,
my victorious children.
What's all this?
Just a little welcome home feast for my children
who think so well of me that they abandoned me
after I've undergone one of the most monumental operations
a woman could ever have.
I wanted to be there, Mother, I-I promise.
My sweet child, I know.
Now what say you, Lulu? Candy?
I ain't got shit to say or to apologize for.
I agree, daughter.
At first, I must admit, I was fuming so much
in my recovery suite that I ran a fever.
But then I realized,
thanks to some guidance from an old friend,
that I was getting all of the love and attention I deserved.
None.
I gave you children nothing
and expected everything in return.
I'm a hard bitch.
But mothers aren't supposed to be hard all the time.
They need to spread the sugar around sometimes.
That don't look like sugar.
Sloppy joe.
- Really, again? - What?
Is ground beef the only thing you know how to cook?
I feel like I'm starting to smell like a hamburger.
And that ain't cute.
It sure ain't. But guess what?
It's better than what you was eating on that park bench.
I like ground beef.
You could do meatloaf, tacos, Hamburger Helper.
Enough about the beef.
It's time to get serious.
This Mother's Day has reminded me
of how I've fallen short with you children.
I know I've lost your trust.
I'm going to earn it back the best way we,
the House of Abundance, knows how.
We will be triumphant at the Mother's Day ball.
Lemar, rack please.
Bitch, what got into you?
Each of my children will be draped in luxurious fineries.
Ooh, this is me. Bitch, this is from Saks.
And Bergdorf's.
These feathers is mad dingy.
It's fuchsia.
- Where did Pray pluck them from? - It looks like one of the dead pigeons
floating in the East River.
Oh, y'all are really trying me.
I cannot wait for our triumphant return to the stage.
We are well on our way to being the greatest of all time.
And the way to do that is to crush our enemies
until their bones are dust
and their names are forgotten.
Starting with those upstarts, Evangelista.
We got to do better than this
if we're gonna beat post-op Elektra.
You know she's gonna be flaunting her new puss smell
all up in them judges' noses.
Nobody in ballroom wants to smell that.
Plus, we'll have heart, a real purpose as a house.
We gonna walk the Mother's Day ball in honor of my mother.
I know she wasn't perfect, but...
she's deserving of remembrance.
And I loved her.
And I know my children are gonna show out for me for her.
I'm all right.
We got you.
I'm sure a little soak in some Dawn
will get the stains right out.
Right?
Blanca.
We are going to have a feast before the ball tonight.
I need y'all to have y'all energy to
slay the competition.
I don't think this recipe is right.
It is definitely missing something.
You added the eggs and the butter?
Yes.
We should've just got Aunt Jemima.
It's two ingredients.
It's too nasty is what it is.
Mm.
Listen, boy, keep stirring. It should thin out.
I'll be right back.
What you doing here?
I wanted to bring this to you.
I'm never gonna use it and Manny don't cook.
Well, don't you want to use this to teach Xiomara?
We're making our own mother-daughter memories.
You and Mami were the ones who loved to be in the kitchen.
You should have it.
I lied.
Mami talked about you.
Right up till the end.
Well, what did she say?
She had a lot of regret that she didn't get it right.
She didn't believe in your choice
and what you were doing,
but she loved you.
I just wish she would've told me that.
That's not who she was.
She never asked me to stay home and take care of you.
I made a choice.
I never even got a thank-you.
Thank you.
For everything.
Do you want to come in?
- We cooking breakfast. - No. Not today.
Okay.
Blanca?
You're the best parts of her.
_
We need one cup of milk.
Okay, here you go.
- Thank you. - You're welcome.
Good job.
- All done. - Oh, don't forget the fruit.
I love you, Mami.
Mm. How much do you love me?
This much!
- Wow. - More than the whole wide world.
Ooh, hoo, hoo.
Will you love me forever?
I will love you forever.
Don't ever forget that.
Blanca, I need your help.
This batter is still thick.
Did you put milk?
Oh, my goodness. I forgot the milk.
Ah, that's enough.
Give me this.
- Look at that. - It was just what it was missing.
Get ready for some tasty pancakes.
Nah, you can't forget the fruit.
I don't want no plain old dry
pancakes for Mother's Day.
Ah, look at this.
I love you, Mother.
I love you, too.
Forever.
And don't eat the fruit now. We got to put it in here.
No, but it's so good, like, you just cut these...
- Stop being greedy. - No.
Wow. I am into everything
about what you're looking like tonight.
Mommy's gonna go now, okay?
No, no, no, don't. You'll mess up my makeup.
Seems a shame to waste all that work on girls' night out.
Thank you for hiring that car.
You know Mary Anne gets wasted, and they've got checkpoints
- up and down the Turnpike. - Yeah.
You've been so great to me these past few months.
Put whatever you want on the credit card.
Thanks.
Don't wait up. Hey.
Love you. Be good, okay?
Have fun tonight.
Hello?
Just tell me what you need, quick.
I'm late for the ball.
Oh. Excuse me?
You a cop?
No.
All I got is weed, nothing hard.
I'm-I'm looking for a girl named Angel.
Does she live here?
How you know her?
Um, from work.
Oh. Well, she's not here right now,
but I'm gonna go see her if you want to come with me.
Is it far? I-I have a town car waiting downstairs.
Oh, shit.
We traveling in style.
They all gonna flip when they see me jumping out a limo.
The category is Labels.
I need to see head-to-toe realness, honey.
And I don't want to see none of those knockoffs
y'all be getting down at Canal Street.
Y'all know what I'm talking about.
Oh, yes, looky here.
And where is Miss Cherry
headed in her YSL pump?
And her Dior suit?
It ain't the PTA meeting, that's for damn sure.
Judges, your scores?
Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten.
Yo. You coming?
Thought you were asking about my daytime activities.
Oh. Bitch.
Who let in all this real fish?
Honey, that nose, she's cunt.
Who is your doctor?
The category is...
Mother-Daughter Realness.
Each mother must introduce her daughter
at a debutante's ball.
And you bitches better be wearing spring colors.
First up, House of Abundance.
Oh, whoa!
Bitch!
She's back!
All the way from Thailand.
And she's looking rejuvenated,
and she's looking refreshed.
The legendary Elektra Abundance.
Looking like a tall glass of lemonade.
Giving us daffodil realness.
Giving us sunflower.
Sun power!
Making the little things grow.
Oh!
You see?
Miss Thing with the reveal.
Oh, they're giving us story.
They're giving us narrative.
The divas are serving us Buckingham Palace high tea
while the rest of you don't know nothing but Lipton's
from the garden.
Come on, judges, give them their scores.
Ten, ten, ten, ten, ten.
Across the board!
Mother of the Year is a mere three months away.
Miss Elektra is poised to snag the title once more.
Any competitors?
Evangelistas?
The judges ate up what Abundance served.
Y'all ready?
House of Evangelista!
Yes!
Work it out!
Yes!
You better start that train, bitch.
Oh, there's a daughter.
Here comes the daughter: Miss Angel.
Giving us graceful, wispy,
crisp and fresh.
Like a York Peppermint Pattie.
There's competition up in here these days.
I don't know about you. Y'all better watch out.
Just so you know,
I don't think you should've snagged grand prize.
But I do want to congratulate you on your surgery.
I'm happy for you.
I suppose well wishes, regardless of how late
they may come, are always adequate.
Though in the future, I prefer them in the form of a gift.
Preferably, from Saks.
I'm Patty.
Stan's wife.
Can we talk?
- Synced & corrected by MementMori - -- www.addic7ed.com --