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: You're good, aren't you? Jack Baker
: I can carry a tune. Susie Diamond
: You're better than that.
: So, make any resolutions? Jack Baker
: No, you? Susie Diamond
: Nah, I figure all that stuff's a bunch of crap, anyway. You do what you do, right?
: Listen, I didn't expect you to rush out and buy me a corsage this morning, you know. Your high school ring is safe.
: There's always another girl.
[several scenes later
] Susie Diamond
: So, did you find another girl? Jack Baker
: I didn't look.
: You look good. Susie Diamond
: You look like shit. Jack Baker
: No, I mean it. You look good. Susie Diamond
: I mean it, too. You look like shit.
: Okay, let's hear it. We trashed the Avedon, the Luau Lounge - what's our beef with 'Feelings'? Susie Diamond
: Nothing... except who cares? I mean, does anybody really need to hear 'Feelings' again in their lifetime? It's like parsley, okay? Take it away, nobody's going to know the difference. Frank Baker
: 'Feelings' is not parsley! Susie Diamond
: Frank, to you 'Feelings' may be goddamn filet mignon, but to me, it's parsley. It's *less* than parsley. Frank Baker
: Look, 'Feelings,' despite what you may think of it, has always been one of the bright moments of the show, and a consistent crowd-pleaser, and consequently we have an obligation to perform it. If we didn't, the audience would be disappointed. Susie Diamond
: Oh. Well, they weren't exactly crying their eyes out on New Year's Eve. Frank Baker
: You passed over 'Feelings'? Susie Diamond
: Yeah. Oh, and 'Bali Hai' went out with the bathwater, too. Frank Baker
: Ah ha. I see. The cat goes away for the night, and the mice take over the orchestra. Susie Diamond
: Hey! I ain't no mouse. Frank Baker
: That's right - you're parsley.
: Oh no, not the goddamn Luau Lounge again! Frank Baker
: What's the matter with the Luau Lounge? They don't salt their peanuts? Susie Diamond
: Singing 'Feelings' knee-deep in paper orchids and plastic tiki lamps is not exactly my idea of a fun evening. Frank Baker
: Fun? Who promised you fun? We get paid, remember!
: Listen, you're not going soft on me, are you? I mean, you're not going to start dreaming about me and waking up all sweaty and looking at me like I'm some sort of princess when I burp?
: You don't give a fuck, do you, about anything?
: Listen to me, princess. We fucked twice. That's it. Once the sweat dries, you still don't know shit about me. Got it? Susie Diamond
: I know one thing. While Frank Baker was home putting his kids to sleep last night, little brother Jack was out dusting off his dreams for a few minutes. I was there. I saw it in your face. You're full of shit. You're a fake. Every time you walk into some shitty daiquiri hut, you're selling yourself on the cheap. Hey, I know all about that. I'd find myself at the end of the night with some creep and tell myself it didn't matter. And you kid yourself that you've got this empty place inside where you can put it all. But you do it long enough and all you are is empty. Jack Baker
: I didn't know whores were so philosophical. Susie Diamond
: At least my brother's not my pimp. You know, I had you pegged for a loser the first time I saw you, but I was wrong. You're worse. You're a coward.
] It's really killing that he's so willing to make whoopee.
: l stayed at the Hartford one time. You should see the rooms. All satin and velvet. And the bed... royal blue, trimmed in lace clean as snow. Hard to believe a room like that don't change your life. But it don't. The bed may be magic, but the mirror isn't. Still wake up the same old Susie.