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| Mr. Ashley H. will cut a bitch if he fucks with his daughter's dental dreams. |
In Seattle...
CHANTAL'S DAD - Hi, Brad. In case you couldn't tell from my massive house and hot wife, I'm rich. Here's a statue that suggests I'm a self-made man. You see, here in the United States, it's difficult for a white man to make something of himself.
BRAD WOMACK - Tell me about it.
CHANTAL'S DAD - Ok. Back in 1987, an eccentric Toyota baron took a chance on a mason's son with a crewcut. And that mason's son with a crewcut... was me.
CHANTAL'S MOM - **enters the room naked** Hi, I'm Chantal's mom. But just for fun, pretend I'm not.
BRAD WOMACK - Whoa.
CHANTAL O. - Really, mom? Again?
BRAD WOMACK - She does this often?
CHANTAL O. - Yesterday I caught her letting the Peapod driver motorboat her boobs.
CHANTAL'S MOM - Not true! It was the recycling guy.
CHANTAL'S DAD - Women, always arguing. Well, Brad, from one rich white guy with a bad relationship with his dad to another rich white guy with a bad relationship with his dad, you have my blessing.
CHANTAL'S MOM - Sweet!
CHANTAL'S DAD - That's not what I meant.
CHANTAL'S MOM - Dammit.
In Madawaska, Maine...
ASHLEY H.' S DAD - Got a joke for you - What does the dentist of the year get? A little plaque. Get it?
BRAD WOMACK - Haha! That's a good one. I love this family.
ASHLEY H'S DAD - But let's get serious for a second.
BRAD WOMACK - Of course.
ASHLEY H'S DAD - If you derail Ashley's plans to be a dentist, I will fucking kill you.
BRAD WOMACK - Excuse me?
ASHLEY H'S DAD - That's right. I didn't spend twenty years in a paper mill so my daugther could pump out weird Texas babies. Capice?
BRAD WOMACK - I thought you people spoke French up here.
ASHLEY H'S DAD - Don't get cute. I will fucking kill you.
In Charlotte...
EMILY - Ricki, say hello to Mr. Brad.
LITTLE RICKI - Sup, homey.
BRAD WOMACK - Um, hi. Look at what I brought you!
LITTLE RICKI - A butterfly drawn on a piece of paper? Shiiiiiiiit.
BRAD WOMACK - It's actually a kite.
EMILY - Little Ricki's a big fan of hip hop music.
BRAD WOMACK - I see. Interesting.
LITTLE RICKI - Like Weezy said, you 'bout to get kicked out the condo. Like Pam.
BRAD WOMACK - Does that mean I can't play boardgames with you guys back at the house?
LITTLE RICKI - What the fuck you think it mean, foo?
EMILY - This is going well, right? How about a kiss?
BRAD WOMACK - I'm afraid if we kiss in front on your daughter, she'll bust out a glock on me.
EMILY - What?! She's a five year-old.
LITTLE RICKI - No, he's right. **shows a glimpse of what she's packing** Run, mothafucka.
BRAD WOMACK - I'll call you. **runs like hell**
In Chico...
SHAWNTEL N. - Why don't you lay down on this metal bed and I'll pretend to embalm your lifeless corpse?
BRAD WOMACK - Nothing sounds sexier.
SHAWNTEL N. - I know, right? You have no idea the freaky stuff me and my cousin used to do down here.
BRAD WOMACK - Your cousin?
SHAWNTEL N. - Shit. I, uh, meant my boyfriend. Yeah, boyfriend.
BRAD WOMACK - So you guys used to do things with these... tools of death?
SHAWNTEL N. - Shhhh... No talking.
BRAD WOMACK - Ookk...
SHAWNTEL N. - No moving, either. And while you're at it, no breathing.
BRAD WOMACK - **lays still, almost like a dead body**
SHAWNTEL N. - Oh yeah. This is what I like, baby.
BRAD WOMACK - Wait a second... Are you getting turned on by pretending I'm dead?
SHAWNTEL N. - Why the hell else would you go into this business?
BRAD WOMACK - Maybe because you love comforting people in their time of need?
SHAWNTEL N. - Haha. Right. And Chris Harrison only wants to help you "find love."
SHAWNTEL N.'S DAD - **from upstairs** Sweetie? Your high school gym teacher's son just croaked. He's all yours.
SHAWNTEL N. - Yesss... All mine.
BRAD WOMACK - I'll call you. **runs like hell**
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