Fugprice

RANDOM MODEL: Caprice, it was soooo smart of you to turn your bathing suit into a dress!

CAPRICE: I KNOW. This way I can roll off the beach and straight to the parties.

RM: Although, I mean… I don’t want to say anything NEGATIVE, but you might have missed a spot with the sunscreen. Your arm is the color of steak.

CAPRICE: Aw, honey, thanks for the concern.

RM: Also, I SWEAR I didn’t notice until now, but it seems you might have forgotten you bleached your hair — those Ken Paves extensions you put in are dark brown. Oopsie! But hey, at least they’re REALLY cheap, right?

CAPRICE: Hey, at least my ROOTS are done. AHEM.

RM: Also, I hate to tell you this, but your boobs could not look more like
implants in that dress if they had a stamp on them that reads, “DO NOT
PIERCE.”

CAPRICE: At least my boobs don’t look like eggs somebody laid inside a bodice. Whatever will you do when those things hatch during the movie?

RM: I’ll use your skirt to wrap up the chicks. Which reminds me, I’ve been meaning to ask: How many Glad bags did you have to shred to get all that fringe?

CAPRICE: About as many as the blotting papers you’ll have to use on your Crisco face. Maybe you might want to use that dress to exfoliate a little before we go inside?

RM: Your peeling sunburn arm goes first, whore.

CAPRICE: Watch that language, honey! You wouldn’t want your tongue to shrivel up like your… oh, wait, pose for the cameras.

RM: Smile pretty! You always look like you’re trying to determine what smells so funny.

CAPRICE: Well, I can name that stench in two: Your…

RM: Language, honey!