Joe:
You don't want me, Sugar. I'm a liar and a phony. A saxophone player. One of those no-goodniks you keep running away from.
Sugar:
I know, every time.
Joe:
Sugar, do yourself a favor. Go back to where the millionaires are, the sweet end of the lollipop, not the Cole slaw in the face, the old socks and the squeezed-out tube of toothpaste.
Sugar:
That's right. Pour it on. Talk me out of it.
[She grabs him to kiss him]
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 07:58
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