Universally speaking, I win in the long run.

[Lucy Hartigan]

Lucy thought she was going to have aneurism from the thought of rootbeer hoses and sexy outfits. "I don't think they'd allow that on YouTube, and the porn sites all attract the wrong kind of attention," she said, her eyes welling up from laughing. She stopped to get butter, successfully drowning their popcorn in it. "Delicious heart attack," she said, as she started to rip open the seasoning packets and shake them over the food. "Delicious, sodium-fueled heart attack indeed." She shook the popcorn to make sure it was thoroughly coated, grabbed a couple of straws, stuck one in Brody's drink and the two girls headed down the hallway.

"Exactly. Don't let it get to you," she said, scanning the numbers on the theatres looking for Quarantine. "They've obviously peaked in popularity, you've still got places to go. Things to do and see, people to get with, the usual rock star business."

[Brody Rogers]

”We’d censor it, for JewTube. They’d have to allow it. And man, some porn sites are classy.. like, the kind you pay for, the really nice kind. We can make up names? I’ll be Busty Bubbles and you, my sweetest, can be Loosey Goosey. See, play on our actual names. We’ll rock it,” she explained, quite matter-of-factly. She watched Lucy preparing their popcorn, her mouth practically watering; she was familiar with, and fond of, the way Lucy prepared their food. Always fatty, always delicious. “I love heart attacks, they are yummy,” she chimed, sipping her root beer as the straw was placed into it. She tossed her empty coffee cup as they were passing a trash can.

As she spotted Quarantine, she grasped Lucy’s arm, tugging her in that direction, a smile on her lips. “They’re done for, and I am going to be a star, such a star,” Brody mused, chuckling. “And you will be my manager, my groupie, and my biggest fan, at my side the whole time. And we’ll be out of this shit hole town, getting famous, and getting all of the money, drinks, and tail that we want. Fucking eh, no?”

[Lucy Hartigan]

"The Vag-Tastic Voyage is the most classy shit I've ever seen, with my cousin Mark and his credit card. And it's not even really classy, the people are just... cleaner," she said, laughing. She allowed herself to be dragged into their theatre. "Nearly empty, on Thanksgiving... I think the bad reviews got around," she said, scanning the theatre for a good seat.

"Back row, ahoy!" she said, lumbering up the stairs. "I wonder if managers/groupies get their own groupies, I think I'd fucking love that. And I could stop you from doing drugs. Or make you do them, if we want to re-create that scene in The Wall when they play Comfortably Numb. A little shot in the arm, That'll keep you going for the show, come on, it's time to go. There is no pain, you are receding..." she trailed off as she focused on seating herself and juggling the food.

[Brody Rogers]

At the mention of The Vag-Tastic Voyage, Brody did snort; coughing violently as she tried to get down her mouthful of root beer, reaching up with a hand to pound at her chest in an attention to keep herself from dying. "Excuse me, the what voyage? You didn't really watch that, did you? You filthy bitch, I had no idea you were so kinky!" she replied, laughing as well, still clearing her throat slightly as they made their way into the theatre. She was thankful, really, that it was looking empty. They'd be able to talk and openly make fun of the movie, at least, without getting too many dirty looks from fellow movie-goers. They usually reserved their ripping to home viewings, but this movie just screamed the type of film that needed to be ripped on. And hard. "Bad reviews work wonders, really, and thank god for them," Brody agreed, nodding slowly.

She quickly followed her friend up the stairs, glancing over at another couple of people who were close to the back, but not exactly in the farthest row, which they appeared to have to themselves. She flopped into a chair right beside the one Lucy chose, and reached over to take a fistful of popcorn as the other girl went off on her tangent about The Wall. Oh, how well aware Brody was of Lucy and her love for Pink Floyd. "Managers/groupies get whatever the fuck they want, you're like rock royalty, man. You want groupies? Go for it. And drugs are fantastic, we already do drugs. So we'd do more drugs, and you'd suck at stopping me, because you're the biggest stoner that I know. Except me? Not so big on needles. So I think we're going to have to leave the Comfortably Numb for another time. However, if you want me to get baked and sing Time or something, I can handle that, I dunno dude."

Reaching for more popcorn, Brody shrugged again. "I am surprisingly flexible, you'd be amazed, my sweet."

[Lucy Hartigan]

"I think watching porn is an essential part of everyone's sexual well-being," Lucy said primly, as she chowed down on the popcorn as well. "And that voyage was the Vag-Tastic," she repeated. "High-class stuff, not a visible STD to be found. "

The preshow was on, which was possibly more annoying than waiting in any lines. Talking above the noise, "I'm not touching needles with a ten-foot pole," she agreed. "Maybe pills, but that's only if you get ullllllllltra-famous. We can have orgies?" she suggested brightly. "We can re-create the 70s. Studio 54 it up at your mansion. Or mine, I'm expecting quite the cut from this deal. Have you decided on solo or recruiting some folks for a band yet?"

[Brody Rogers]

"You would. I think my brother did, too, until my mother walked in on him. I didn't think people actually did that, you know? Watched porn in their mother's house? And mom like, screamed, and I came running, and like.. trauma, for me. And for her. But he needs to move out, he's like, twenty five now, jesus christ. Get an apartment, douchebag," Brody explained, trailing off into her story, complete with hand gestures and spoken through a mouthful of popcorn. Which, she had to admit, as quite delicious. "Off the topic of my brother's penis though, I'm glad you at least watch classy porno. I wouldn't want you getting the wrong idea about sex or anything, you know? Only the best for my baby girl."

Reaching for her root beer, she took a long sip, as she propped her sneaker clad feet up onto the empty chair in front of her, getting comfortable for what was sure to be a cheesy piece of film. "Oh, honey, I will be beyond ultra famous. Paris Hilton will be licking my feet, if she's into that kind of thing. And if I were, which I'm not, cause feet are nasty. But the point is, I will fucking rock. We'll have pills, we'll have orgies every Thursday, in both of our mansions. Or maybe in a mansion that we have specifically for orgies? We can give it a name, like.. I dunno, but we'll think of one," she agreed, taking another drink. "I basically wish I was born in the 70s, so it'll be pretty awesome, trust me on it. And you know you'll get your cut, of course. Since you'll work hard, and you spent all of these years at my side, keeping me sane. How does, like.. forty-sixty sound to you? I was thinking thirty-seventy, but I didn't wanna be a massive jewbag."

The comment about the state of her career took a moment of thought, as she sighed and shifted her feet. "Dunno. You know how I feel, relying on other people? If you get a band, you need to share the wealth, and the stage, and if you piss one person off, it's all gone. So I'd prefer solo, duh. Plus I think the Brody Rogers Experience is pretty much speaking for itself on the fantastic scale. You can back me up on harmonica, if you want. Brody Rogers Experience featuring the Tooting Haritgan? Though I did think up a name, if I do need to get a band."

[Lucy Hartigan]

"The musical exploits are all up to you, I couldn't carry a tune in a wheelbarrow let alone on a harmonica. And sixty-forty sounds good to me. If you went jew-rat on me you'd be looking for a new manager. And we could call it... Pussy Palace?" she asked, grinning though she was disgusted even saying it. "That's actually somewhat disgusting," she said as an afterthought. "Yeah, the orgy-mansion-name is going to take some actual planning."

She was half-way done her rootbeer and considering a refill, but was far too lazy to move. "I guess it would be a hassle having to worry about other people too, but if you were the frontman... er, frontwoman, you'd be calling the shots. Well, I would be, but you'd dictate 'em," she explained, helping herself to some more sodium-saturated death-corn. She perked up at the mention of having a name for a band. "I didn't know you'd thought of one!" she exclaimed. "What is it?"

[Brody Rogers]

"Do you really think it takes that much talent to play a harmonica? All you do it blow. And I know you know how to do that," Brody shot back wryly, smirking at the other girl as she slipped her straw into her mouth and took another drink. "Anyway, we'll go with sixty-forty then. Just so I can keep my beloved manager by my side. Also, no to Pussy Palace. That's gross, even for us. We ought to think of something really classy, like.. maybe we can go and look up fancy words for genitals on the internet, and go from there," she continued thoughtfully, tapping her index finger against her chin in thought. "Actual planning sounds like an actual plan. Although I think Cock Castle is also probably available for the taking."

Taking a handful of popcorn, Brody popped it into her mouth, before continuing to speak between chewing. "That's exactly it. I wanna be famous, not get a bunch of fucking drum beating nobodies famous. I can sing, and I can play a guitar, so I don't need those fuckers. I can get a synthesizer or something, go all 1984 of their asses. I just want it all to myself, call me a greedy bitch if you must. I call the shots, I get the fame, the money, and the sex, and the drugs, and everything else awesome. I mean, I'm taking you along for the ride, but you'll obviously be a famous Hollywood actress on the side, and I'll be doing all of the music for your movies."

She was a bit wary of Lucy's excitement over a band name, and she lowered her voice to a bit of a whisper, cupping a hand around her mouth as she leaned over to speak to the brunette. "Promise not to laugh? Even though you laughed at like, the last two I made up, I really like this one."

[Lucy Hartigan]

Being a good friend and not knocking Brody the Gimp out after her little comment about Lucy's knowledge of blowing, she ignored the remark. "The last two you made up deserved to be laughed at, and you know it. Actually, the last fifty... so far it's not your forte, band naming. But hey, if it'll make you tell me, I promise not to laugh. Scout's honor and such."

[Hunter Sommer]

"My band names are perfectly suitable, you just don't have any decent taste, you know that?" Brody shot back, reclining some into her chair, and closing her eyes. The lights were starting to dim, a sign their movie was going to start, and even the few other people in the theatre with them were starting to shut up. Previews were, of course, very serious business.

"Brody Rogers and the Shaky Deals. That's the name."

[Lucy Hartigan]

"I'm impressed. It doesn't suck. In fact, it's actually kinda good," Lucy said, "for once." She was almost done the popcorn, it would be time for a refill any second. "It gets the Lucy Hartigan Seal of Approval, if you ever do decide to recruit others. Anyway, time for some grade A horror movie bullshit, so let's stfu."

[Hunter Sommer]

Genuinely impressed that her friend didn't make fun, Brody smirked, preening just a bit and puffing her chest out some as she leaned more comfortably into her chair. "Uh-huh, see? I am good with names. Bands are just harder to name than my songs.. I was thinking of stealing the female population of Random Comment, see if they want in. I dunno though," she added, her voice hushed, as the screen lit up.

She took her friends advice, and quickly shut the fuck up.