Person 1: I saw a cute girl outside the bank today. She looked nice.
Person 2: Oh no, not again. You are the _worst_ judge of these things.
Person 1: But she was so sweet. Shy, but there was something in her eyes. A pain down in her soul, the same as the one down in mine.
Person 2: Mm hmm.
Person 1: The police light played through her mohawk like the sun setting through pine trees as she shoveled the third hooker into the trunk of the camry...
Person 2: Back up.
{{Alt: Two Hedwig references, an obscure Joey Comeau, and a girl with a mohawk. Yes.}}