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@basicbitchwrites

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I am drunk on classic literature.
THE Â TEXAS Â CHAINSAW Â SERIES Â Â sentence starters !
this was made using dialogue from the first six movies.  trigger warning for mentions of violence, murder, animal death, gore, drug usage, incest , ableist and misogynistic language, nsfw themes, and everyone just generally being assholes.  feel free to edit these as you please.
 â i heard you, but it donât mean much. â
 â a dog will hunt. â
 â youâre so dead you donât even know it. â
 â what kinda sick shit is this? â
 â oh, you just hush. â
 â i promise you, you and i are gonna have some fun. â
 â what if i were to turn you loose, what would you give me? â
 â donât call me darling, dammit. â
 â no, please! no! â
 â that was for your own good. â
 â do you think all i wanna do is kill you? â
 â back up, pig fucker! â
 â iâm starting to think you like wasting my time. â
 â if thatâs what you want, itâs up to you. â
 â i wonder whose tongue this is? â
 â what are you doing to yourself? â
 â today iâm gonna use my tongue in ways the lord never intended. â
 â youâre just trying to scare me into leaving. â
 â they take the head and they boil it, except for the tongue. â
 â how mad at me are you? â
 â you donât need to be walking these roads alone at night. you should get in. â
 â stop, youâre scaring me. â
 â no talking until after i say grace, asshole. â
 â iâm gonna ask you nicely one more time. â
 â yeah, you gotta watch it getting into cars with strangers these days. â
 â people shouldnât kill animals for food. â
 â you have to get out of here. â
 â oh my god, iâm way too stoned for this. â
 â itâs easier to resist at the beginning than the end. â
 â man, itâs hot in here. â
 â please stop your damn bellyaching. â
 â i smell bullshit. â
 â youâre gonna get killed doing that. â
 â you donât know what the hell youâre doing. â
 â i think youâre chasing the wrong tail, buddy. â
 â iâve got a perfect willingness to die. â
â you stay away from me, you fucking animal! â
 â thereâs more work to be done, lets get it over with. â
 â you know why iâm here. â
 â get your sweet little ass back in the dirt until i say otherwise. â
 â look at me, iâm not a dope smuggler. â
 â you canât get cancer from not having sex. â
 â i hate when this happens. â
 â guess iâm falling apart on you, honey. â
 â do you fuck all of your cousins or just the ones you find attractive? â
 â that was beautiful form. â
 â son of a bitch smells just like a slaughterhouse. â
 â the only thing youâre gonna catch in this water is disease. â
 â oh, heâs weird looking. â
 â whatâre the chances of a brainless bitch like you knowing how to use that thing, huh? â
 â hey, what the shit? â
â itâs too much, iâm gonna be sick. â
 â where you headed, man? â
 â are you ashamed of your country? â
 â what are you afraid of, that they might try to fuck you? â
 â hellâs exactly what they raised. â
 â thereâs roadkill all over texas. âÂ
 â fine, i lied, but itâs not my fault they were stupid enough to believe it. â
 â i guess thatâs what brains look like. kind of like lasagna. â
 â keep your voice down. â Â
 â what you do is your own business. â
 â boy are you dumb.Â
 â well, first iâm gonna kill you. it ainât no fucking biggie. â
 â your little ass is gonna be in big trouble. â
 â howâd you get stuck way out here? â
 â i did it for us. â
 â are you afraid of a little blood? â
 â you beautiful bastard, you. â
 â i just thought of something so cool, what if we got into a wreck, and we crashed into the car in front of us and we all died. they could write a song about it. â
 â they live off fear, they thrive on it. â
 â the saw is family. â
 â you wouldnât lie to me, would you? â
 â well lookie here, weâve got ourselves a killer. â
 â youâve never had a date in your life youâre so ugly. â
 â how often do girls blow their heads off in this shit hole town? â
 â that was so not cool. â
 â i have a question for you. â
 â youâre not scared, you donât know shit about being scared. not yet. â
 â you better rocket, cowboy. â
 â promise you wonât hurt me. â
 â on a list of bad ideas, that one is way up there. â
 â iâm sorry, but weâre all gonna die. â
â you just keep sweet talking me, dumpling. â
 â that gunâs no good. â
 â you think i give a god damn what happens to you? â
 â you canât do it alone. â
 â put down the weapon, donât be stupid. â
 â there could be dead people buried all around us and we would never know. â
 â you really think youâre something in that outfit, donât you? â
 â it is my fault. â
â there comes a time when every boy becomes a man. â
 â come on and take a sip, you gotta have something to build up your strength. â
 â iâve got a mind to slit your damn throat. â
 â i like that skin of yours. â
 â after the glory, here comes the shame. â
 â the old way, with the sledgehammer, see that was better, they died better that way. â
 â thatâs it. donât call me dumb. â
 â iâll tuck you in special every night. â
 â this is bullshit, i have rights. â
 â quiet! you act like a pack of hounds. â
 â how are you an expert on the dumbest shit? â
 â you figure it out, itâs your life. welcome to the real world. â
 â i donât want to fight anymore. â
 â what if theyâre a murderer and they want us to follow them? â
 â ladies love a man in uniform. â
 â you got one choice, sex or the saw? â
 â i oughta blow your fucking brains out right now. â
 â get back in there! get your ass back in there. â
 â you think this is a party? â
 â iâve never seen anybody die before. â
 â basically if youâre buried right your skin turns into poison crisco. â
 â i think you have a beautiful voice. â
 â please, you can make them stop. â
 â you blasphemous bitch! â
 â heâs a really bad man. â
â whatâs it gonna be,  you gonna be the motherfucker who eats, or are you gonna be the poor sorry motherfucker who gets ate? â
 â this is your lucky day. â
 â how about giving me a hand, asshole? â
 â i just wanna go home, okay? â
 â turned traitor for a piece of tail. â
 â i had to do it. i used you. â
 â can you believe we didnât know each other yesterday? â
 â you shut your cock sucker, you son of a bitch. â
â youâre a lot tougher than i thought. â
 â i told you, iâm a bitch. â
 â are there people in those bags? â
 â if you get too hot, you can always take your clothes off. â
 â youâre gonna get in my way. â
 â iâm sorry, sweetie, i got a big mouth. â
 â you expect me to do this by myself? â
 â you canât make me go back there. â
 â i ainât finished with you yet. â
 â you just figure out how to do it and do it. â
 â they just get dumber and dumber, donât they? â
 â i should have listened to my old man and went into real estate. â
 â please, donât let them kill me. â
 â you like this face? â
 â what the fuck is wrong with you people? â
 â get that thing off my cutting board. â
 â i ainât got no fear left. â
 â youâre embarrassing me in front of company. â
 â i always get yanked into this shit. â
 â shut up, you bitch hog. â
 â okay, could you relax, because youâre not helping. â
 â you brought this all on yourself. â
 â try to speak plain, it saves time. â
 â i really wish you would call me ____. â
 â do i have to do every damn thing around here? â
 â how bad is it? i canât feel it. â
 â do you mean talk or dance around the real subject with chit-chat? â
 â you donât understand nothing. â
 â weâre on our own now. â
 â excuse me, you mind getting the fuck out of my way? â
 â weâre not even having fun yet. â
 â could be worse, at least weâre not as bad off as those people in the body pit. â
 â i just canât take no pleasure in killing. â
 â youâre all gonna pay for your sins. especially you. â
 â i believe you, i might be the only believer youâve got. â
 â just some things you gotta do. donât mean you gotta like it. â
 â hard ass, me? maybe a semi hard ass but iâve got a soft heart. â
 â iâll take you back to hell. â
 â okay, miss priss, cut that out. â
Janesville Daily Gazette, Wisconsin, January 26, 1950

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4. Sebastian Against the World
Brideshead Revisited (1981)
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The Tacoma Times, Washington, October 27, 1909
floralegeâ:
itâs common knowledge that  emmyâs inner  circle  is impossibly  small  ââ if  even  enough  to  constitute a  circle or any shapely figure,  considering  it  had  mostly been  dominic,  off  and  on,  and  lux.  perhaps a  few  brunch  pals  that  she  actively  sabotaged out  of  boredom,  but  those  two  had,  for  better  or worse,  become  her  touchstones  in  this  city.  the  heartless creature  loved  dominic  and,  biggest  surprise  of  all,  she  loved lux.  not  enough  to  tell  either  of  them  at  any  point  ever,  but even  bastien  scarcely  received  those  drunken  declarations.Â
she understood why  lux  left  ââ  her  general lack  of  empathy  didnât allow  for  any  excuses,  though, and  lux  had  left  emmy  to  watch thing  one  and  thing  two  play  out their  high  school  fantasies  on  a  public scale.  she  resents  and  adores  her  in  equal measure,  the  usual  cocktail  of  emmyâs  relationships. âdo  you  think  a  few  kisses  are  enough  to  give  you a  clean  slate  ?  youâre  off  gallivanting  in  the  sunshine, and  iâm  just  one  rotted  wedding  dress  away  from  becoming  mrs. havisham,  thank  you  very  much.  â  she  makes  note  of  luxâs  fresh fillers,  silently  impressed  by  their  subtle  appearance, and finally cracks a smirk.  â  you  beast. â
âIâm not sure I want a clean slate. I think Iâd much rather wallow in the dirt, with you.â But just for this weekend, she reminds herself. Sheâs only back - back here, back in New York, back in time - until the storm passes. After seeing Dominic, the pouring, howling, gloomy weather that's grounded her here overnight had blown her through the dark streets to Emmyâs front door. Lux is windswept wild and chilled to the bone by it all but she wonât let herself be made cold, again: bleak, and bitter, and frozen in place like the others are. No. Sheâs leaving as soon as she can. Going back up north to thaw herself out again.Â
--Because, she tells herself, if she feels any warmth in Emmyâs touch, itâs an illusion. People dying of hypothermia often feel irrationally, inexplicably hot.Â
âYou should come back to Monte Carlo with me,â she says, and sheâs really not sure whether sheâs just being polite or not. âYou donât have to gallivant. There are plenty of rich fools to torture in Monaco, you know?â
â--Speaking of, I saw Dominic and Daisyâs place,â her voice drops to a conspiratory hiss and she leans in close, her smirking, painted mouth to Emmyâs ear. Itâs like a trigger word. Like muscle memory for nasty gossip...But she catches herself, her breath, all that she says is, âthey said you stayed with them a while..? Huh.â

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orumadâ:
@basicbitchwrites
âturn a profit,â he repeats, crossing the room to pluck a hidden pack of cigarettes from a drawer. like theyâve been waiting there for this exact moment. bad habits really do die hard, or not at all. âone of the old expats taught you that?â domâs gaze wavers to the hall, to where a small voice hums to herself. itâs likely not all the expatâs done for lux.
he sits on the edge of his desk and looks down at her settled in his chair. thoroughly weirded out by the clear turn of the tables. one hand slowly sweeps his papers away while the other proffers a cigarette. âyes, i can see that.â his bitterness rears itâs head for no particular reason, maybe just for old times sake. âyou donât know poverty â emmy was living here for awhile.â and thatâs only the tip of the iceberg. having surrounded himself with emmy, daisy, and brigitte - the twins, favoring their mother, omitted themselves from the equation - domâs done well to suffocate himself with those with only the highest expectations of him. seems only fitting that lux join the table again.
âwhoâs the kid?â he tries not to do any pregnancy math for fear of it equaling a hefty addition to his child support bills. tilting his head, he ashes onto the business papers. âwho are you these days?â
âNo. I took some night classes. Finally got my high school diploma,â shrugging, she mimes modesty. Pauses a beat - just long enough to let him feel bad, as if heâs capable of it - before continuing. âLanded a legal aide job. Discovered a government cover-up. Took on a case that became the largest class action lawsuit in American legal history...What can I say? Thatâs just life as a struggling single mother.âÂ
âIâm kidding, Dom. --Iâm actually sleeping with my divorce lawyer.â Thatâs not true either, but she doesnât want to tell him too much. Certainly doesnât want to tell him that she doesnât even have a lawyer. She brushes the subject away with a fan of paper documents, and taps them, âletâs save that for mediation. I really just came for these.â
--And, yet, she finds herself accepting a cigarette. Through a mouthful of smoke she insists sheâs quit.Â
âEmmy?â She chokes on smoke as she says the name. Coughs as though the vocal cords used to make the sounds are dusty from disuse. She has to take another swig of her drink to wash it away. Itâs beginning to wash too much away: intention; inhibition; the past couple of years. --She swears she doesnât really drink these days, either.Â
âEmmy and Daisy?â Because of course Daisy lives here. Thereâs almost nothing around to suggest it, but thatâs exactly how Lux knows. Sheâs such a nonentity that she doesnât even leave a mark. Thatâs why Dominic likes her so much. Or thinks he does, anyway...Lux has never been able to figure it. Sheâd stopped trying. Or thought she had, anyway. âShe was living here, as in sheâs dead under the floorboards, now? I almost couldnât blame you.â
âThe kid? Oh. No idea. We just met earlier today, actually, in the corridor. --I thought she was your new young thing.â She shrugs a Saint Tropez tanned shoulder, but itâs suddenly just a little bit frosty. He really will have to take her to court to find out. --Or at least break out the strong stuff she knows is hidden under the desk. Brigitte is as good as lost to Lux, but her littlest daughter is just hers.Â
âYou wouldnât like me, these days,â she assures him, almost laughing. Sheâs all easy and au natural, she explains, âlike one of those coked-up nineties supermodels who runs a lifestyle blog, now.â --She doesnât add that sheâs not sure if he ever liked her. Or that sheâs not sure she likes herself these days, either.Â
â--What about you?â She quirks an amused brow, looks him up and down over the rim of her drink. Still sharp. Devastating. Sad. He hadnât changed. Heâd never change. Sarcastic, but not as snappy as sheâd like, she says, âI hardly recognised you.â
âWhy is everyone giving me nasty stares?â
âTheyâre not giving you nasty stares. Thatâs just how people look, most of the time.â Eyes glazed, gazing away, all blase malaise. Lux catches a bleary, boring eye over her daughterâs shoulder, and remembers when people used to look at her, instead of through her. Strained for her, smiled at her, gave her all their attentionâŚShe used to think that everyone was just happy. Turns out they were just happy to see her. âItâs how they look at you, when they canât see how pretty you are. âHere.â She leans across the table to pull Beeâs hat off, push her sunglasses on top of her headâŚShe wants to brush the hair away from her eyes and fuss over her colouring but she stops herself. Sheâs not sure itâs welcome; thinks there may be a reason Bee has hidden her face, wrapped herself up in layers. They havenât really spoken face-to-face sinceâŚSince everything happened. Â
âI wish youâd come visit me in Monaco,â she says finally, âthe only thing that could make you prettier is a tan.â
In my experience, what every true artist wants, really wants, is to be paid.
Soul Music (Terry Pratchett)

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âGood God.â Lux presses a quick, lipstick-y kiss against first one cheek, then the other. âYouâre the crypt keeper.â She leaves two smears of pink behind, but Lux is the one who dabs at herself with the silky cuff of her blouse; as if kissing might have left a layer of dust and ashes. Holding her by thin shoulders, out at arms length, she looks Emmy up and down and shakes her head. âTragic. Iâm almost afraid to touch you, you might fall apart. Youâre rotting in this city, Emmy.â --And she is, but only in the pale, narrow, Morticia Addamsâ way. Age and regret have hollowed out her cheekbones and darkened her eyes, and sheâs impossibly chic in a way that was only ever hinted at, before.Â
As ever, Lux had done the opposite. Rounded off her sharp edges with Italian food and French wine. Let her dark roots grow in, sunned herself brown, tried to let go...It hadnât worked, obviously. Sheâs back. Theyâre both back. Together again.
 She cups Emmyâs sharp chin, cracks a smile thatâs a little bit filler these days, and leans in for a proper kiss. âYou witch.â @floralege
âYouâre not welcome.â Emmy n dacey
âI keep telling you, Iâm alive,â he sighs so hard he exhales more dust, âyou canât exorcise me by telling me Iâm not welcome. âAnyway, thatâs not ghosts. Thatâs vampires. You of all people should know that, you leech.â But he doesnât storm off this time, and not just because heâs not sure whether his calve muscles have atrophied from sitting at his desk so long. Heâs been alone - bar the mice, the silent staff, and the spectres of his dead ancestors - for over a year. And while, yes, that is his idea of a vacation, he finds heâs almost missed this; the mental torture, the barbs back and forth, the uneasy feeling of impending doom. Heâd never left, but this feels like coming home.Â
âWhich is tragic, obviously, and worrying in a way he doesnât quite have words forâŚBut heâll leave that to wine and his therapists. For now, he pours two glasses of wine, and hands one to Emmy. âHave you managed to bleed me dry financially too, yet?â He asks, which is, for them, almost like howâve you been?