Brittnay: Jeannie, I don't get it. We're already hot. What other training do we need? Jeannie: You goddamn. Ignorant. Bitch. Being a model isn't just about being hot. Anybody can be hot. Fucking weather girls are hot. 'Hot' gets you a job firing a t-shirt cannon at a Clippers game. Models are impossible. I'm gonna teach you how to be so goddamn attractive, that when people see you, they're gonna fucking hate themselves. Your job is to set such an impossible standard of beauty, that when normals see you in these designer clothes, they say to themselves 'Oh my God, maybe if I wear those clothes, I'll look as beautiful as her', even though they'll always be the same chubby little rat people they were before. Mackenzie: OH... MY... GOD. I just came. Than: Ah, me too... oh hey, look at all these clothes. (cue clothing test montage) Jeannie: Not too fucking bad! Mackenzie: It’s the same fucking plan you always have Shay! It’s what you did to us before Prom! It’s what you wanted to do to the hipsters before the fucking football game! Every fucking time it’s the same God! Damn! Plan! Seriously, go get some new ideas and while you're at it, get a new fucking face you Rottweiler! (starts barking like a dog in Shay's face, then leaves) Shay:(sighs) Goddamit. The last thing I want to do is eat cheese with either of you. Rachel: I get farty. Shay:I know!