Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

I'm not some cool story at a yuppie fucking cocktail party.

She works up front, eats souls for fun?

We were never friends, Piper. We weren't...

That's it. Now leave me the fuck alone.

How are you feeling?

Oh, wait. Crowning. Let's look at crowning.

To the first of many articles in world-class publishing and the like.

But I just need to get... Out!

You see any babies around here?

Y'all are like some cautionary tale shit.

You wanna know how she gets the contraband in?

Of course, honey.

They won't even find out I was using.

I think there are pictures.

And it deserves to be celebrated.

'cause a minute with you two is better than Plan B.

I'm just getting started, bitch.

Now, the prison doesn't need a case of the junkie jitters on record,

I got mad control over my epiglottis.

so I had to let the guy run the meter until Polly's dad got there.

An inmate from Litchfield Federal Prison

Trailer park all-star with the classy neck tat?

There's other people in this prison,

I mean, shit. What's the point?

And no one is shitting in any cup, okay?

Five-hundreds. That's science.

Besides, whatever she was doing clearly ran out, right?

What's it like when he comes to visit?

I covered for her when she got here. Hmm? Just like I did for you.

What? It's locked. Are you okay?

and she's like, Where's Pete? Yes.

Your mother sucks cocks in hell!

You two should tour high schools for abstinence,

My mighty staff?

After this comes the book deal, and then the movie deal,

I don't know. Polly made a last-minute Evite so...

My father, he sold candy out of a box.

Want me to read it? I am going to read it.

She made a mistake, okay? She's 19 years old.

That's what you're supposed to say, right? It's a baby.

Jesus, with this shit.

Oh, well, my husband isn't home. He's got the checkbook.