This is what's remembered:
He's sitting shot-gun, doing this trick that makes the beer disappear, rapping on something in his clicky-clack't staccato. They're calling her Holly Golightly- not cos she looks like Audrey Hepburn, more cos she kinda looks like Holly Hunter. He tries to give her this line from Sep Sunday, and she goes all mental about how it isn't really applicable.
He's sitting shot-gun, doing this trick that makes the beer disappear, rapping on something in his clicky-clack't staccato. They're calling her Holly Golightly- not cos she looks like Audrey Hepburn, more cos she kinda looks like Holly Hunter. He tries to give her this line from Sep Sunday, and she goes all mental about how it isn't really applicable.
He's talking in circles, knives out, using unuseable slang to explain hisself. The new girls are wondering if he's friends with his friends for the verbal lashing he dishes down. He makes it up by saying something cute about stockinged capped jones being a winner.
She talks in music, running on sentences, hitching hold to whatever part of the conversation is dangling her way. She's pulling the party back toward the apartment. They're conspiring over cupped shaped fingers about how to get the other two to kiss; the other two kick them out so they can make-out in the renovating apartment.
He goes your less like Holly Hunter; you're more like Irene Adler. You might be the life of me. She mumbles back, I'm married.
He's walking back home; she's getting driven back to her home. His buddy drops something like you okay? And he goes, Yeah, well, I guess... What was her real name again?
