Get Over It! Page #5

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Behold my tasty body

in this corset.

Police.

ID cards, and some quickly.

Can someone let me fall?

Please.

We are astonished.

The police are not calling every day...

stating that your son

was picked up into a sex club.

Your father and I have discussed

and we are incredibly proud of you.

Because you pick up your life again.

Most children can not.

You do. You climbed back on your horse,

harness or should I say?

I am arrested.

Are not you angry?

Why? You're just curious.

We did not realize you were so perverse.

Who wants frozen yogurt?

Berke might want to go home

It's a crazy jerk.

Make me frozen yogurt.

Pull her up.

Ladies and gentlemen,

prisoner number 6943.

Well done, Landers.

You're photogenic, you know.

Take care with your accent.

You sound like Mary Poppins.

What are you talking about?

If I were you...

Do you have makeup on?

That's it.

Watch out, Landers.

Your spot on with your life.

Who nou fighting sticks

in his pants?

Peter Wong was injured.

How fortunate you are singer

and not a dancer.

I kill you,

oetlul pretentious.

This is my theater.

My version.

Forrest-Oates is my boyfriend.

That was intense.

I've never

see a bone sticking out so far.

Everything will be okay

according to the nurses.

Peter will soon

will walk again.

As Kevin Spacey once said:

The show goes on.

The premiere is already over three days.

Those who sign up to volunteer

the role of Lysander?

Hand away, little Steve.

You already have a role, Striker.

I know,

but I want to nominate someone.

I feel very flattered...

but a man of 34

you can not keep pace.

I had honestly

Berke Landers on the eye.

Very interesting. Has anyone

a useful idea? Hand away, Steve.

He is inexperienced, but he does have

a certain kind of enthusiasm.

I do it.

You do it? -Yes.

But fixed ordering pizza, Jessica.

Keep that ice on your buttocks.

Otherwise, the swelling worse.

I need you, but not really.

- What we have swords?

- Seven.

Kites, eight.

- If Allison does not appreciate this...

- What then?

You know your text well.

- Yes, but then my singing?

- My song sucks.

- Rewrite it.

- I never pick Forrest-Oates.

You have

more savvy than he.

That he sees differently.

He gave me a key.

He is an idiot, Allison.

My name is Kelly.

What did I say? -Allison.

Nietes.

Sorry. -I shoot you dead.

That thing is dangerous.

Put it's gone.

It is my white boy

with an arrow in his arm.

I thought he was not real.

I want to see it.

It looks awful, huh?

The physician makes your arm and better than

play the stars of heaven.

Your arm does not look so...

Oh, my God.

Thursday, Kelly

quarter to twelve at you.

Felix, but it is Kelly.

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