Plush...

“Ouch, that would definitely suck,” Nat said. “By the way, none of you old girls is going away any time soon, are you?”

“They’ll carry me out feet first,” Kenny assured Nat.

“I’m like an old piece of soap that’s stuck to the soap dish,” Robby said.

“Well, we’re all going away someday,” Danny sighed.

“Oh, sweet Jesus, she’s soooo deep!” Robby said.

“Old Queens never die. They just fade, fade away,” Kenny crooned.

“No, honey, fade? Away? Fade away?“ Robby said. “I’m checking out on a Saturday night right here in this room. Ricky Martin’s coming in with his entourage and Nat’s going to seat him in here and I’m going to plush him out! Do you hear me? Plush him out all night and right after I lay the check I’m going into cardiac arrest and Ricky’s getting down on his hands and knees on this carpet to give me mouth-to-mouth...”

“Oh, shut up, Princess Fish Breath!” shouted Kenny.

“And I’m going to die with that adorable boy’s lips pressed to mine,” Robby finished.

“JesusJosephandMary! That’s the best you can do?” Danny whined. “You’re a fucking fifty-eight-year-old Catholic schoolgirl!”

“Thank you,” Robby whispered.