Kim: Jon, honey, when you came to the funeral home without your mask on, it was the first time I had seen your face.Jon: You were psyched, right?Kim: I love you, Jon. It's just you're not my type physically.Jon: Sweetie, I hear what you're saying, but come on. I got the mask back. Use the power of imagination. I can be anyone you want under here.Kim: I tried that. I just keep picturing your face. And --Ryan: Ask her about the poem.Kim: Ryan, that was something I sent to you.Ryan: Well, I put it up on the internet.Kim: What?!Ryan: Yeah.Kim: Take it down.Ryan: I can't. It's already out there.Kim: Ryan.Ryan: Alright, fine. I'll take it down.Kim: Yeah -- Today.Ryan: Okay.Kim: GET UP! GO!Jon: Hit the road, Jack.Ryan: Alright. [leaves]Jon: Let's talk about that poem.Kim: It's really nothing to talk about. It was just something I wrote when I was frustrated.Jon: Doesn't sound like nothing. It's on the internet.Kim: Yeah, but it's nothing.Jon: Yeah, but it's on the internet.
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