"Tragedy at gunshow?" What happened at the gun show?
Not what happened, what's going to happen. The final sweeping underneath the rug. By this time tomorrow nobody will be asking questions ever again. The ads will have won. And I will be... The man.
I think the ads are playin' yo' ass.
[slaps her across the face] Shut up Classiii!
Oh heeelllllll no!
What?
Oh hell no! Yo' Down's Syndrome ass just slapped me! I'mo break your dick off! [picks him up and slams him into the glass wall that doubles as a window]
Hang on, Classi, I'm sorry.
[punches him] I will bust yo' fuckin' ass! [punches him again] I will bust yo' f**kin' nose! I ain't no Mimsy, asshole! [punches him repeatedly] I'm a clasy bitch! And I do not, want ads, controllin' my news! [she lets a thoroughly beaten Nathan slide to the floor]
Classi, thank you!
You need my help? You got it!
I need your phone to call Officer Barbrady. And we have to get to that gun show, fast!
Quick! To the Classi mobile!
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