HILARY SWANK: Oh, whoops, am I wandering into somebody’s photo?
JULIETTE LEWIS: YES. But that’s okay, lady-sister, you get over here and you stand with us and work your woman-heat!
MINNIE DRIVER: What I thnk she’s trying to say is, you can stand with us. If you want. If you dare.
HILARY: If I dare?
JULIETTE: Well, sister-dude, I mean, I might steal the show with my very pretty pink dress that looks like it might drop off my boobs at any second, or the shoes that look like my ankles were tied to my bedposts by a pair of silk scarves and I decided I liked it as a fashion statement.
MINNIE: And I look like I just got lei’d at a funeral home. But you… well…
HILARY: Me what? Is this not bright enough? I mean, wouldn’t it make awesome wrapping paper? In fact, for all you know, maybe it used to BE wrapping paper.
JULIETTE: That almost makes me interested.
HILARY: Almost? Be careful what you say to me. I was a Karate Kid once.
JULIETTE: And I was a yoga-obsessed vegan colon-cleansing adorably cheerful nutbar once, who.. wait, I think I still am.
MINNIE: I can’t remember anything I was in, really. But I’m sure it was awesome.
HILARY: Fine, you know what? I don’t want to be in your picture. That would be too much collarbone and neck cords for one photo and we’re all weirdly EXACTLY the same shade of fake flesh, and it’s creeping me out.
JULIETTE: Aw, wussy-pants! The glory of my inevitable nippling would dwarf your aura-field anyway.
MINNIE: And my hairy shoulder will shed all over your wrapping paper. So begone.
HILARY: With pleasure.