advertisement Amanda: Oh my God, look at her pupils! Are you stoned? Shelley: It's Jennifer, how can you tell? Amanda: It's twelve o'clock. She's an hour late. Shelley: My caviar has hatched! Shelley DuPont: Well, do you know what I think she does for a living? It rhymes with "for." And it rhymes with "phostitute"! Candice: I just want you to know that I'll never get in your way, I'll never hang 'round your neck. And, like, when we go to Rome or Paris and you're busy, just say to me, "Cand, here's the keys to your car, here's your gold American Express card, now go back to the hotel, sweet, and stay there!" Shelley: Do you know how hard it is trying to break into show business? Candice: Oh, Shell... Shelley: Lana Turner didn't make it until after she died! [On the phone.] Shelley: Listen, Daddy, gotta go and hunt through some garbage cans for tonight's dinner. So remember, if my financial situation doesn't perk up, and fast, I'm gonna tell Mommy what you do with her pantyhose, okay? Shelley: I need 3,000 pounds just for my BMW repairs. Do you know how much it costs to scrape people off your headlights? Shelley DuPont: That is just about *this* interesting. Waitress: Is everything okay here? Jennifer Marsh: Well, it's just that apparently Shelly has murdered our flat mate. Shelley DuPont: [reacting to two black male houseguests] All right, this is a raid! Listen, two of you guys in one room, to me, spells riot. I know what's going on. I've seen West Side Story. Candice: Shell, where's your little white hooded robe with the slits and your burnin' cross, babe? Shelley DuPont: [after Candice has substituted floor polish for bikini wax, burning Shelley's "nethers"] Oh, my God, my frou-frou's on fire!