MS: Hey Gladice, lookin’ good!
GSH: Cot-Damn! Why you gotta be so loud, b*tch?
MS: Oh dear, I’m terribly sorry. Someone manually adjusted my knobs so I can’t st—
GSH: Shit son! Really, like, I’ma have to bust a cap in this b*tch or the cops is finna run up on this house while I’m cleanin’ and sh*t. Stop talkin.
MS:…
GSH: Thas better. (singing to herself) F*ck whatcha heard, I’m cleanin this desk, f*ck, f*ck whatcha heard. F*ck whatcha heard. Winnndex. Winnndex.
MS: Can I just say something?
GSH: Oh helllll naw.
MS: Right. Um, you’re using ammonia on a polished wood surface. Not a good idea.
GSH: Muthaf*cka I will unplug yo ass if you keep tryna in-tra-ject on my cleanin abilities, all loud ‘n whateva.
MS: Turn me down then.
GSH: What?
MS: TURN ME DOWN, Gladice.
GSH: (Covering ears) Snap! I’ma turn you down b’fo I have to whoop yo ass. Turn you down. I’ll turn you down.
MS: Thanks, ho.
GSH: No thank you, b*tch.
Conversation between My Polite Speakers and Gangsta/Suburban Housewife
Linear Mode
