The scene starts out in the living room, Molly on her cellphone as she sits on the couch adjacent to the wall, her feet up on the coffee table wearing pink fuzzy bunny slippers. On the other couch is Dorito, sleeping at the end, while Christy and Alicia are by his head, on their knees.

Molly: It's fucking stupid! How can they now start taxing internet porn? ...Is there any fucking thing on earth that the US government doesn't tax now? ...Well screw that! Do you have any idea how much money I'm going to lose on this? ...No, I don't know the numbers, but everything is going to have to go up? Do you think anyone is gonna just sit back and let the feds take our money for what we do? ...I don't think so Randy. Everyone is going to raise their prices to keep it so they don't lose a penny, and do you know what that is going to do to the consumer? Instead of letting them imagine they're screwing some girl or whatever, taking part in what's going on in the scene of the video, there's going to be a man in black right there with his dick up the consumer's ass. ...But how the fuck can the consumer get off on the idea of imagining they're taking part in a porno while there's some guy screwing them from behind at the same time? ...What's next? Feds start fondling their balls in search of any loose change? ...Taxing sex, fucking taxing fake imaginary sex, that's all this is about. So now to use your imagination, not only do you have to pay sales tax at stores for paper and pen, but to lust in your own imagination, you have to pay taxes for that as well, and that is morally wrong. ...I know. But get that deal signed. Yeah, I'll call you later. ...Bye.

She clicks a button, setting her phone down beside her as she looks over at the two girls.

Molly: So how's it coming?

Alicia: (whispering) Almost done, just need to let them dry more or less.

Christy: (whispering) This will be so funny!

They blow on Dorito's fingers, with Dorito snoring.

Molly: That black he had on was kind of a drag, but that trip to the mall and stop at hot topic will so be worth it when he wakes up.

Christy: (whispering) This silver nail polish with rainblow glitter is SOOO cute!

Alicia: So how much money would you be losing from this tax?

Molly: Considering it's proposed to be at 25%.

Alicia: Twenty-five percent? That's a lot.

Molly: Yeah, no fucking shit Sherlock. Sell a video for twenty bucks, and government makes five off it. That's five dollars out of my hands, out of the consumers' hands, and right into the hands of some rich guy who gets to jackoff to the videos while getting paid so.

Alicia: So how much would you have to raise the price to?

Molly: Like thirty bucks to keep from losing any money.

Alicia: Ouch, an extra ten bucks really is screwing the people.

Christy: (whispering) How should we wake him up?

Molly: Jump on him or something.

Alicia: We could just let him sleep. He does have tag team match against Winter and Nomad tomorrow. And he's never pinned Winter in a match.

Christy: (whispering) Maybe tomorrow will be different.

Molly: Last time he won a match involving Winter, he won the Ironman title the following week, and now with a tag team title match next week, thanks to that heinously skanky, crab-infested, HIV triple positive with three new diseases named after her when found in her, that...

Christy: (whispering) You mean Kylie?

Alicia: The slut.

Christy: (whispering) She seemed nice to me after the show last week when we talked. She mentioned an idea of me stripping my hair blonde, which I had been thinking about doing, then maybe adding a pink and blue strip in some place.

Alicia: I wouldn't do the four colors, just natural and say the blonde strips, but you've got such great hair.

Christy: (whispering) Thanks. So do you.

Molly: ...wretchedly cock sucking cum guzzling wannabe-raped but can't be cause she's too willing. If Kylie's there tomorrow, I'm going to run her down and if I even catch Chris Matthews taking a look at her, I swear that I will have his ballsack cut off and sell it on 43rd avenue as a rear-view mirror ornament for someone's car.

Christy: (whispering) Sounds like someone needs a nap.

Molly: A nap? A fucking nap? Who the hell do you think you are? My mother? I don't need some goddamn nap. Just because the feds are trying to tax the internet, cut into my business, and we have to put up with that walking-talking STD tomorrow in Atlanta...I feel like kicking some ass! I think I'm gonna go hit the gym or something.

Alicia: That doesn't sound too bad, since we're in HOT-lanta and there's plenty of raves to hit up after the show. Come on Christy, lets go.

Christy: (whispering) What about when D wakes up?

Molly: Forget him, he's sleeping, he'll probably still be sleeping when we get back, else we'll probably see him at the gym later or something.

Alicia: Or what if instead of going to the gym, we hit the beach?

Molly: How about we hit the gym, then go to the beach?

Alicia: Even better!

Alicia pushes to her feet and walks away as Molly climbs out of her couch. Christy shrugs, then gets to her feet as well, walking away to leave the scene to zoom in on Dorito's fingers, the light reflecting off, giving his fingernails a rainbow-effect. Dorito then snorts as he turns, rolling over on the couch to face the other direction, continuing his sleep, while the scene fades out.