The white room is a stage thing. In TV, if you screw up, you get another take. In theater, there's no net. You blank out, that's it. You're a polar bear in a global warming documentary, hanging on to a tiny piece of ice in the middle of the sea, waiting to die.


Oliver: Kimber's one of the few cast members who can actually sing.
Charles: I take offense to that.
Oliver: That was my intention.

I'll look out for you, Charlie. Just like I did with Ben Glenroy. He knew if he touched one hair on your gorgeous little head, he was going to have to deal with me.


Mabel: Hey, Mama. Yeah, we're like uh .. yass and work and slay and yass, over here, like, yeah.
Kimber: Yes, Queens!

You know, it's amazing the amount of steaming horseshit you can feed the American public if you tell them it's organic?




Ah! You found my lipstick. This, if this wasn't already the best day of my life. Nothing I hate more than an incomplete set.