- You’re the moon, Larry. You have got to stop being the moon!
- What’s wrong with being the moon?
- It doesn’t have its own light.
- So, what? That makes you the sun? Are you the sun, Piper? Huh? You’re the center of the solar system and I’m just a dead hunk of crap rock! How am I supposed to become my own planet, Piper, when your shit is still everywhere? Huh? You get to move on. You get to fuck Alex or whoever’s next, and I’m stuck. I’m stuck with your sweaters and your shoes and your goddamn Sephora fucking outlet store worth of products! You are everywhere.
It’s like living inside a sarcophagus.
- Well, take my stuff to Polly’s if it’s so in your way. And you mean “mausoleum,” not “sarcophagus”.
- Don’t tell me what I mean!
At least people can walk on the moon. Anyone gets near the sun, they burn right up.