I'm going to die.
I know I'm going to die.
I can tell because my
pulse is so weak.
The pills...
I took so many downers
that I know this is the end for me.
You poor thing.
You want us to fix
your hair for you
so you look good when they find you?
Oh, would you?
Sure, what do you want?
A ponytail?
A flat top with fenders?
I'm gonna die, Janet.
I'm gonna OD.
So make me look good.
Listen, the best I can do for you
is fix your hair,
so why don't you get up and wash that melted
eye makeup off your face?
Is it smeared?
I've been crying so much.
It's so damn sad when you know
you'll never see all your friends anymore.
Oh,
every week it's the same old thing.
You're gonna die.
You're gonna die.
Somebody went out on you.
Somebody doesn't
love you anymore.
How long you been a groupie?
You should get used to romances
which are so obviously cheap.
Listen, just in case you crash out
and the imaginary rock -and -roll news
paper from San Francisco
wants to get any pictures of you,
you'll look like you washed your face.
Really, it's better this
way with a clean face.
People think groupies
are such dirty girls.
But mine's sort of fucking
all three of them.
Look, over there. What? He's
doing it.
He's watching us from the fake
bandstand
with the binoculars.
Who, the Englishness?
The rivet boy.
The rivet boy?
Where? Over there.
Wipe that stuff out of your
eyes.
Looks like he's beating off.
Beating off?
I knew he was a pervert.
Ooh, how exciting.
Hey, are you still trying to ode thee?
Yes. This definitely is the end for me.
I feel so faint and so weak.
Ah. Good evening,
honey.
That was the most imaginary collapse
I've seen since last week.
Janet, do you think
she's going to die?
Are you kidding?
Did you see her hit the floor?
God, well, it was so obviously cheap.
I'm going to die.
This time it's real.
Listen, Lucy, we've got to get ready
for a big dance number.
We're going to the fake nightclub
tonight.
Everything's getting dim.
Why don't you tell her a story
while you put your make -up on?
Evening.
Listen, Toots,
I'm gonna make up
a nice little fairy tale for you.
Oh, the pills and mandrakes.
I took so many of them.
I'll tell you part of the story,
and then you make up another
part that goes along with it.
Once upon a time,
there was a tall, handsome, muscular...
Dwarf. with a very special
Swedish apparatus
that him and his friends would use in conjunction with bold
new surgical experiments involving a bludgeon,
a bottle of champagne
and a microwave oven from a jumbo jet,
one of the big jobs leased
from Air Rangoon
Which, when used correctly,
can effectively increase the dimensions
and firepower of your dick
to the point where, in some instances,
it should be classified as a lethal weapon.