Anna Campbell and I have already done a history tour of parts of the U.K., and it would be fun to invite my fellow Word Wench Cara Elliott along, too!
Drax the Destroyer: Are you not the man this wench attempted to kill?
Peter Quill: Well, I mean, she's hardly the first woman to try and do that to me.
[shows a scar]
Peter Quill: Look, this is from a smoking-hot Rajak girl. Stabbed me with a fork. Didn't like me skipping out on her at sunrise. I got, right here, a Kree girl
tried to rip out my thorax. She caught me with this skinny little A'askavariian who worked in Nova Records. I was trying to get information. You ever see an A'askavariian? They have tentacles, and needles for teeth. If you think I'm seriously interested in that, then... You don't care. But here's the point.
Lady Tremaine: A vulgar, young hussy marched into the ball, unaccompanied, if you will, and to the horror of everyone, threw herself at the prince.
Anastasia: And he actually danced with the ugly thing.
Cinderella: Yes?
Drizella: Yes. It was pity. He was too polite to send her packing in front of everyone, you
see. But not wanting to expose us to the presumptuous wench any further, he took he apart.
Anastasia: And told her off. But she refused to leave and the palace guards chased her from the party! I pity the prince. Such bad taste.
Drizella: They belong with each other.
Lady Tremaine: Well, it's no matter, girls. The ball was a
mere diversion. The prince is not free to marry for love. He's promised to the Princess Chelina of Zaragoza. The Grand Duke told me himself.
Drizella: It's so very unfair.
Lady Tremaine: Yes. The way of the world.