(2002. An apartment on the west side of Saint Paul, Minnesota.)
I would like to share a cautionary tale about what happens if you do not send the CD club postcard back on time.
(Holds up compact disc, which she now owns. It is Kid Rock's “Cocky.”)
I mean, what are we going to do? Listen to it?
(Peals of dismissive laughter.)
(One month later. The living room of same apartment.)
(Jill and Laura shamelessly rock out to the music of Motor City's native son as they straighten up. It is clear this has happened before.)
(Fluffing couch pillows.)
They say I'm COCKY, and I say WHAT? It ain't braggin' motherf*cker if you back it up!
(Straightening stack of books.)
THEY say I'm cocky, and I say what? It ain't braggin' motherf*cker if you BACK it UP!
(Playing air guitar during interlude.)
(Folding a blanket in rhythm with the music, singing along with gusto.)
I'm from the outskirts of Detroit Rock City! A shirts, Cadillacs, big t*tties! Skinny models, you can keep those. I like BIG corn-FED midWESTern HOES!
(Raising the roof.)
Don't you KNOW?
(Doing the robot.)
Talk fast, pimp SLOW!