American Horror Story2011

Shelley:
Come on, Doc. Bend me over a bread rack and pound me into shape.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
You're a dirty little slut with a poisonous tongue.

Shelley:
I just want to go outside for 15 minutes in the sun. Please. I just want to feel the sun on my skin. I'll do anything.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
No. Whores get nothing.

Shelley:
Men like sex, no one calls *them* whores. I hate that word, it's so ugly! I'm into pleasure. Ever since I was five years old, and I slipped my fingers inside for the very first time. I could do it all day. My mother made me wear mittens to bed.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
Because you're a little slut.

Shelley:
No. Because she didn't understand me. So I ran away from home, met some jazz musicians, real freethinkers. I fell in love with the bass player. Big mistake. As soon as he put a ring on my finger, I was his property. He could screw every Betty in town and I had to stay home and scrub his dirty drawers. So come fleet week... he gets home and finds me in bed with two navy guys. And I told him, "It's not for self, but for country." He decked me flat out, threw me in the car and locked me in a nuthouse. And the sickest part is, they let him. Because I like sex. That's my crime.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
Am I supposed to be moved by that pathetic tale of woe?

Shelley:
Please. I'm just asking for five minutes in the sun. A little fresh air.

Dr. Arthur Arden:
You make me sick. Whore.