Stella McFugney

STELLA McCARTNEY: Yes, that’s right, lens-jockeys. Drink it in, okay?

CHRISSIE HYNDE: Heeeeeeeee.

STELLA: What are you laughing at?

CHRISSIE: Oh, nothing, nothing. You look … special. Snort.

STELLA: I know that. I have procured a jumpsuit that’s made to look like a suit-suit, and it is as if angels spun it themselves from finest cashmere.

CHRISSIE: That’s… tee-hee… ONE way of putting it.

STELLA: Oh, yes? How would YOU put it?

CHRISSIE: I’d suggest you were moments away from opening up  law firm in the back room of your local Jiffy Lube. You could call it Jiffy Law. Ha! And accessorize it by hanging a hood-ornament around your neck. This would make a great country song…

STELLA: Well. That’s very interesting, coming from someone who is wearing almost the EXACT same thing but with stranger shoes.

CHRISSIE: HA! Do you see, guys, how weird she is? Honey, my jacket and pants SEPARATE.

STELLA: That’s because your jacket used to belong to Shaquille O’Neal.

CHRISSIE: Whatever, crankypants. Or should I say crankysuitpants? HA HA. Hilariously hideous. Let’s get inside before anyone else sees you.

STELLA: You are insane. I am divine. EVERYONE WILL SEE.

CHRISSIE: Right. Clearly, YOU are the one who should’ve been in a band called The Pretenders.