ABBIE CORNISH: Smile for the cameras, Jena.
JENA MALONE: Whatever, mom.
ABBIE: I’m not your mom.
JENA MALONE: I know, you’re more like one of those family friends who I call aunt.
ABBIE: No, I’m two years older than you are.
JENA: You ARE?
ABBIE: And you are not some 15-year old hybrid of Taylor Momsen and Madonna’s kid.
JENA: Shut up. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You spew LIES. You’re forty if you’re a day and I AM TOO your petulant teenage charge who just wants to wear a giant cobweb over a bra and I hate you!
ABBIE: Okay, whatever floats your boat.
JENA: Come on! You’re not going to ground me and tell me that I’m an irresponsible young lady and that you won’t give me the car until you can trust me, and that there can’t be mutual trust until there is mutual respect?
ABBIE … Dude, I’m 28. I so don’t care.
JENA: You SUCK, grandma!
ABBIE: You know, I only stood here because we accidentally bumped into each other.
JENA: SOMEBODY PLEASE DISCIPLINE ME. I AM SCREAMING FOR A LECTURE.
ABBIE: Um… go to your room?
JENA: Oh, God, THANK YOU.
ABBIE: No problem.