The Runaways2010

Cherie Currie:
I'm taking a break.

Lita Ford:
Again?

Kim Fowley:
No, you're not. You dogs wanna stay up all night, eating p*ssy, sucking cock, chewing Quaaludes, that's fine. But not until you get this song down. Now, do it again: One! Two! Three! [the girls start playing]

Kim Fowley:
Horse sh*t! Horse sh*t! [Cherie laughs]

Kim Fowley:
What are you laughing at? You think you can sing like that in front of people? In front of customers? You b*tches need to start thinking like men. No snips, no snails, no puppy dog tails - men wanna f***! Men want this! Filthy p*ssy! And you're gonna give it to them. You're gonna put it in their faces and then take it away, just to break their f***ing hearts. What's wrong, Cherie, are you tired?

Cherie Currie:
Yeah.

Kim Fowley:
Yeah, are you bored?

Cherie Currie:
Yeah, I am, actually.

Kim Fowley:
Well, guess what? You're not allowed to be tired, you're not permitted to be bored. You're an employee. You are my property, and you'll do as I say or you can go flip tacos with your better-looking sister.

Cherie Currie:
F*** you, Kim. I'm losing my voice. I'm taking a break.

Kim Fowley:
Hey! News flash, diva: This ain't the opera. They're not coming to hear your chops. They're not coming to hear you bang on your drum. We are in the music business. You wanna be artists, cut off your f***ing ears and mail them to your boyfriends. You wanna be rock stars, listen up. Now, Cherie's lack of greatness - her lack of rock 'n' roll authority - is getting in the way of our product. What is that product? Sex! Violence! Revolt!