PARIS HILTON: I can’t believe no one cares about me any more. I’m reduced to parking in loading zones and wearing gift bags for attention. I used to flash my lady garden and crash my car into stuff. Those were the days.

CY WAITS: I know. I feel so ignored now.

PARIS: Oh, please, Cyrus Rose, no one knew you to begin with. You’re dating ME for attention. NOW. IN 2010. YOU FOOL.

CY WAITS: That’s not my name. That’s Blair Waldorf’s stepfather.

PARIS: Sorry, Cyprus Rhodes.

CY WAITS: That’s the college in Greek.

PARIS: Rhodes Scholar?

CY: You’re getting colder.

PARIS: No, these tights are keeping me pretty warm.

CY: Cy. It’s Cy!

PARIS: I know it’s you. Also, the correct grammar would be, “it’s me.”

CY: Really? Also, that’s not what I said.

PARIS: I have no idea. I’m not even listening to you right now, Sty.

CY:  CY. CY WAITS. MY NAME IS CY WAITS.

PARIS: That is not a name.

CY: IT IS. IT IS MY NAME.

PARIS: Are you sure you don’t mean TOM Waits? OMG TOM WAITS IS REALLY FAMOUS. And OLD. If we get married, I’ll get back on the cover of US WEEKLY FOR SURE!

CY: Whatever. Yes. Sure, I’m Tom Waits. Can we just go into the Ivy now? So I can use the butter knife TO KILL MYSELF?

PARIS: Whatever you say, Tom!