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Lidia: You didn't even go on into Lipnicki's property. I'm the one who got everything. And quit nigger-lippin' my smoke. Give it here.
Elvadine: Excuuuuse me? What the hell you just say?
Lidia: Give me my smoke. What?
Elvadine: You know what. Girl, you'd better get outta my face.
Lidia: You call your friends that.
Elvadine: How I calls my kin ain't none of your business.
Amber: Ooh-ooh, it's a fight! What'd I miss?
Lidia: I'm sorry.
Amber: What's she sorry fo'?
Elvadine: I think you have somethin' that belongs to me - my mood ring.
Lidia: Where's my pooka shell necklace?
Elvadine: I'll see who gets it!
Lidia: Look, I said I was sorry.
Elvadine: My mama said I don't hafta hang out with nobody who degrades me that-a-way, even if they is my best girl.
Elvadine: But I'm gonna let it go this time. But you're on probation, and don't think I'm gonna forget about it neither. Now put your eyes back in your head and let's go.
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Elvadine: Dang, girl, I risk my neck all mornin' for you dumb behind. You think I at least entitled to a five-second break or a puff off of your scag.
Lidia: What do you mean, "riskin' your neck"?
Elvadine: Well, what you call trompin' 'round in them crazy, gap-toothed, banjo-pickin' no-eyelid hillbilly yard stealin' all their junk. Daaaang! They ever do find out we robbed' em, I reckon they gonna whup my behind 'til it's flat as yours.
Lexi Randall
Extended Reading
