TROUBLE

“Thanks for the offer, Miss Grant but my strip clubs going days are over.”

“What did I say about calling me, that John-- and Jeez, this campaign has made you so boring. I’m disappointed in you, you’re shaming me and the strippers of New York city.” 

“What, a girl’s strip club? Can’t I show you my tits and we’ll call it even?”

“Damn, your boobs verses stripper boobs... It’s the age old question: Quality over Quantity.... Can I put my face in them?”

"Um, we, er, we should go?” It was a question she was asking herself, unsure of what she was trying to do. “I want to understand you better and so if it means a—a strip club, then let’s go!” 

“Oh my god, I mean I was just joking but... You think you can handle it?” Juliana grinned and took her sister by the arms. “You’d really come to the strip club with me.”

Zach looked up to see the young Grant woman approaching and quickly leaned against the other chair arm with his forehead resting against his hands. Keeping his face turned away, he rolled his eyes. Then again, better Jules than her saint-on-the-rise sister. Looking back toward the woman, he shrugged. “I looked good in that suit. No point in paying too much to only wear half a suit.”

Sounds like someone’s jealous that my night was more eventful than theirs.

I’ll be as bitter as I want to. I was gunning for a threesome and the guy said no, can you believe that?

“‘Donovan Mendoza was nothing short of brutal’, ‘savage’, ‘uncultured’ … man, these reporter guys don’t let up, even after more than half a year.”

“You’re really buying that? No one who cooks like you is uncultured, cuz.”

“Are you kidding? Count me in. It’s been way too long.”

“Oh my god, ye- wait... You know we’re not going to Chip N Dales, I want to see tits tonight.”

“Don’t stop on my account.” Juliana said leaning against the door frame. “Matter of fact, can I join?”

"I have a friend with a radio station, you know. Broadcast it all over the city.""Be a good little slave, you don’t want your secret out, do you?""Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut."

“Why can’t I just press the button?” He didn’t understand, it would be so much simpler that way.

“Because you need to switch the input on devices and you need to do that with a remote. There is no button one the device fo-- What the fuck, why aren’t you ready the directions?”

Someone’s in a bad mood.

I didn’t take my happy pill this morning... but any drugs you do have on hand would suffice.

"You can’t be serious," Zachary said aloud as he watched the television screen in the bar. He could not help but chuckle as he watched and read the captioning on the news report. "Someone tried to forge a winning lottery ticket?" When they flashed the phony ticket on screen, all he could think was that it was amateur work.

“And you wouldn’t?” she asked, sauntering over to Zach’s chair and talking her seat on his arm rest once again. “I mean couldn’t you use the money to buy yourself a better suit, I mean no offense.”

"Play," the man demanded as he angrily jammed his finger on the button for the nth time. "God dammit, why won’t it fucking do what I say?" He could get man, woman, and beast to bend to his will but when it came to technology Theodore was hopelessly lost.

She rubbed her temple and sighed. “Wrong remote, dude.”

Ana was never really an advocate for the horse and carriage’s that carted tourists around Central Park, especially since the stench was practically unbearable, but at the sight of a pure white horse, she couldn’t help but be drawn over to it. “Hey there, beautiful.” She cooed, reaching out to pet it with the approval of its owner. “Poor thing being cooped up in a city. Can’t say I don’t know what that feels like every now and again.”

“Are you really talking to a horse in soothing tones.” Juliana raised her eyebrows walking over to the woman and trying her best to hold her tongue (for once.) “And people say I need medical assistance.”

I'm just saying

Yeah, if you’re white, but whatever. Story of our lovely American history.

Not saying that I believe in horoscopes or anything, but tomorrow is apparently supposed to be an important day for me. So if one of you is planning on getting me drunk, high, or something new and shiny, you can tell me. I’ll still act surprised.

Can I just give you head and call it a day? That’d be a pretty important event for you, I’ll make sure of it.