Sophia: All right, all right, I can pick up a cue. Picture it: Sicily, 1912. A beautiful young peasant girl with clear olive skin meets an exciting but penniless Spanish artist. There's an instant attraction. They laugh, they sing, they slam down a few boilermakers. Shortly afterwards he's arrested for showing her how he can hold his pallete without using his hands... but I digress. He paints her portrait and they make passionate love. She spends much of the next day in the shower with a loofah sponge scrubbing his fingerprints off her body. She sees the portrait and is insulted. It looks nothing like her, and she storms out of his life forever. That peasant girl was me. And that painter... was Pablo Picasso.Dorothy: Ma, I have a feeling you're lying.Rose: Be positive, Dorothy.Dorothy: OK, I'm POSITIVE you're lying!
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