IMOGEN: Jesse says you better know what you're doing with Franco.
ME: Dude, I'm scared.
IMOGEN: !! What? Tell me!
ME: He makes me FEEL THINGS. It's icky and I don't like it.
IMOGEN: You've known him what, a few hours?
ME: I'm telling you, he scares the sh*t out of me. But he's so good I can't stop myself.
IMOGEN: Audra, seriously. Chill. It's been a couple hours. It's just insta-lust.
ME: Uh-oh. He's waking up. Time for round . . . 3? 4? I've lost count. Tell me I'm a cold-hearted man-eating b*tch with no soul. Tell ME!
IMOGEN: You're a cold-hearted man-eating bi*ch with no soul? Only, you're not. So . . . you're on your own with this one. Except if you need me of course. I've got All Thai'd Up on speed dial, three bottles of Josh in the rack.
ME: if this goes south—or anywhere except nowhere, you'd better make it four. Or six. Because we're either going to be incredible together, or we'll destroy each other. There will be no in between.