Imaginary Bitches

Eden:
[knocks on Lizzie's apartment door]

Lizzie:
Who is it?

Eden:
It's me, Eden.

Lizzie:
Can I call you back? I'm at the dentist.

Lizzie:
Are we doing some kind of cleanse that doesn't involve vodka!

Lizzie:
Wanna do a shot with me?

Eden:
Oh, maybe in a minute, or when it's not morning anymore.

Lizzie:
Over my dead body is anyone pledging their love in a limerick in my wedding.

Waiter Guy:
Wow! I mean you've gone from really cute to like bat sh*t crazy in five seconds flat.

Eden:
Caitlin thinks that you look really cute in those pajama bottoms, but, uh, that you look gay in the shirt you were wearing last night, so you should burn it or come out of the closet.

Eden:
Wine? Beer? Root vegetable organic drink that tastes like death?

Mark:
Imaginary friends? Like kids have?

Eden:
Hey, don't get all high and mighty with me pal. You're doing imaginary work for imaginary money so that your imaginary self can go to an imaginary concert.

Mark:
Are you involved with Second Life?

Eden:
Is that like a cult or something?

Mark:
No, no. Uh, worse.

Eden:
Heather thinks that you guys sound like body snatching aliens, and is worried that the boyfriend is a ploy to turn me into a relationship pod person.