The only place different social types can genuinely get along with each other is in heaven.
Hi, I’m sorry. Technically, I did not kill Heather Chandler, but hey who am I trying to kid, right? I just want my high school to be a nicer place. Amen. Did that sound bitchy?
Heather: You stupid fuck.
Veronica: You goddamn bitch.
Heather: I brought you to a Remington party and what’s my thanks? It’s on a hallway carpet. I got paid in puke.
Veronica: Lick it up, baby. Lick. It. Up.
“My teen angst bullshit has a body count.”
