Now, remember. This director slips you anything that looks like a Sweet Tart,
it's probably that date rape drug that knocks you out and distorts your memory.
Or at least that's what it does to the guys I give it to.
It's never gonna get to that. I have my own date rape drug.
I talk about myself incessantly till guys get bored and pass out.
So if that doesn't work, what are your limits?
A little over the sweater, under sweater,
a little front door, back door, a little secret staircase?
I don't know what that is, but no one goes up my staircase, not even for Chestnut.
At the most, I'll do kissing.
You are thinking like an extra.
You need to think like a star if you're gonna buy Chestnut shoes, then therapy, then a way out of Scientology.
Oh, hi. You brought company.
Yes, she's my ride. We share a subway card.
Well, she uses the card.
I jump the turnstile and she pretends to chase me, yelling "don't worry, I'll get her!"