Act Nine, in which the Imaginary Socialite goes home to the boonies and plays Scrabble with her mother and little bro (and loses! so not okay!).
Imaginary Socialite: Are you sure we want to play Scrabble? Maybe we want to play Bullshit instead?
Little Bro: Well, with you making up so many words, Scrabble and Bullshit are the same thing.
Mommy Dearest: Oooh, snip!
Little Bro: Mom, it’s snap.
Imaginary Socialite: I’ll ignore that. I love it here. I wish we could take this whole house and move it into the middle of Manhattan. Of course, then we’d be billionaires.
Mommy Dearest: As opposed to half millionaires.
Imaginary Socialite: Half millionaires? What happened to the other half?
Mommy Dearest: We took you shopping last night. Remember? Oooh, snip!
Little Bro: Snap, mom! Snap!
[IVANKA TRUMP - AM I THE IMAGINARY SOCIALITE?]
Ahhhahahah! My mom says stuff like that too. You should do a real of fake Myspace edition of my mom. Hahaha
I totally pictured this like a scene in a film you should piece together stuff and write a book or a screenplay… I would watch/read it