Dina: …Oh my Watcher, Neens, tell me it’s a joke.

Nina: You can’t tell anyone, you hear me? Anyone! Romeo won’t know, the sprog won’t know, we are staying OUT of it.

Dina: Okay, but… you realize they’re rich, right? Like, sleazily rich. You know what the Monty net worth is?

Nina: Gee, dunno, after or before their therapist fees? Listen, this whole feud is messed up, and no money is worth getting caught up in it. Especially if you’re just a baby who didn’t ask to be born a llama-ranching mafioso. 

Dina: Fine, fine, forget I said anything. …Wow.

Nina: What?

Dina: I spent so much time pretending to be the dumb one that I didn’t see… you were the dumb one all along…

Nina: First of all, I’m not following gossip rags like you do and I had no idea who he was, second of all, you would not believe how cute he is, third of all, I can twist you into a freaking pretzel, so WATCH IT. 

Darren: Hey, Nina, you’re working out outside today? Good idea, it’s a lovely morning.

Nina: Ha! No, I’m going to work.Backup won’t dance itself, you know, and I’m way behind on my cardio.

Darren: Work?

Nina: You would be baffled by that.

Darren: But, uh… what about the baby? Jesus CHRIST don’t step on her.

Nina: It’s okay, you’ll be home all day, right?

Darren: Wait, I never said anything about babysitting-

Nina: What, so you are really going to let a newborn lay the whole day on the floor just because picking her up is not on the chore chart? You monster?

Darren: Hey, uh, this is not cool-

Nina: Really, Darren, do you think that now I’m a mother I will sacrifice my career? My ambition? That I will no longer be able to be a strong female role model for my impressionable daughter? Is that what you’re saying, that moms don’t get to go out there and conquer the world?

Darren: No, of course not, I-

Nina: Cool, thanks for agreeing to take care of her, it’s SUCH a relief to know she’s in capable hands, you’re a real trooper and I can’t make rent this month gotta go byeee

Darren: You’re welcome…?

Let’s jump real quick into PSVV. Lazlo and Vidcund were apparently in the dumps the last time I played them, so I threw them a little party with their frankly baffling ensemble of friends.

Chloe, encountering John Burb:  Jesus christ it’s like someone made a mallet made out of boredom and knocked my head clean off with it. I can’t look at this

Donna: YOU! I know you cheated off my history homework. I would be furious if it wasn’t proof that even you realize I’m the smarter one. Plagiarism is the most sincere form of flattery!

Della: Why, you! I would sooner fail out of school than fill my head with what passes as “knowledge” for you. I read your homework, yes – to laugh at your idiocy! 

Donna: Save your posturing and just concede defeat. I have one word for you! You know what it is?

Della: One word is about all the vocabulary you have, so go ahead, slay me with your wit, miss “Neil Armstrong is still on the moon”! Go ahead!

Donna: Butthead.

Della:

Della, voice cracking: You take that back.

Donna: BUTTHEAD!

I wasn’t certain if I should send the kids to school, what with Hawthorne deciding that he didn’t need it, but ultimately: playing kids all day at home isn’t that riveting, and grades are one more area for the girls to compete. And Hawthorne consistently rolls wants for them to get into private school, though tough cookies, dude, you know we’re not inviting the headmaster to your squat. And so he begrudginly lets the girls decide for themselves, and sees them off.

Cute driver!