Fuglie Pickler

KELLIE PICKLER: Why, hello, Jennifer.

J.LO.HEW: Hi.. Kellie?

KELLIE: Yes, that’s my name. You might remember me from American Idol, or all those stories about how I’m besties with Taylor Swift, even though she and Miley Cyrus pretended to be BFFs at the Grammys. We all know that’s a lie. I mean, I am way more interesting than Miley! I’m older! Wiser!

J.LO.HEW: Are you, though? Because I confess, I didn’t recognize you, because you made the decision not to look like yourself at ALL.

KELLIE: How do you mean?

J.LO.HEW: It’s all that makeup, hon. You look like you’re TRYING to channel Portia de Rossi in a mediocre Gwen Stefani costume that actually came out looking way more like Mary Cherry from Popular.

KELLIE: And YOU look really short in that dress. I don’t think, if I had just broken things off with my fiance and lost 25 pounds, that I would have worn something with proportions that unflattering.

J.LO.HEW: But…

KELLIE: And, HA HA, what was with that carpet cape? What, did a ghost whisper that idea to yout? Did you run around all day singing, “I’m a Berber Girl, in a Berber woooooorld…”?

J.LO.HEW: Ouch.

KELLE: See? You are not the ONLY one who can tell brutal truths, beeyotch!

J.LO.HEW: I guess we’ll never be friends, then.

KELLE: Guess not.

J.LO.HEW: Okay. Smile!