Uptown Girls

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Some fairy tales are true.

Most other stories we make up | to help us deal with real life.

It all depends | on your point of view,

but here are the facts.

There was once a princess | who lived in a castle

high above the streets | of an enchanted kingdom.

The king and queen | were long gone,

but they left her | with their treasure

so that she could stay | a princess forever.

On the eve | of her 22nd birthday,

a great celebration | was planned.

Molly's machine. | Speak your piece.

Oh, birthday girl, | pick up, pick up, pick up.

Huey and I | are just sitting here waiting.

You better be on your way. | - Money down she's still asleep.

Molly, wake up!

Molly's machine. | Speak your piece.

Hey, Molly, it's Justin here.

Callin' from the studio | to wish you a happy birthday...

Give me five more minutes, | baby, and I'll rock your world.

Love ya!

You can't turn the hallway | into a greenhouse, Miss Gunn.

Good evening, Mr. McConkey.

Please say hello | to your wife for me.

Bye. Have a nice night!

I've alerted the management | company about this.

Oh, my.

I put the flowers upstairs for you, | but this is out of hand.

Got a girl, Tony?

Not one that could fit | into this dental floss.

Be a darling and send all this stuff | to the Salvation Army!

You're the greatest, Tony!

Molly? | - Hey, Ingrid, it's me.

Where the hell are you? | - I'm sorry. I passed out.

I was watching TV. | - That was a premeditated nap.

You did this to me on purpose.

You're my best friend | in the whole universe.

How could you possibly think | a thing like this?

It's like stabbing me in the heart. | Thank you!

Forget it, okay?

I didn't want to tell you, | but our little night out has grown.

Huey and I are here | with a few of your closest friends

waiting to wish you a...

Happy birthday?

Happy birthday.

I tried calling you from home.

The girly to end all girlies | is in the house.

Happy birthday, Molly.

We got you, Molly! | - We got you, didn't we?

You did. I thought it was | gonna be just us guys going out.

Hell, no! What kind of friends | you think we are?

Look at this. | This here is a party, right?

You're 22?

I just turned 19 | and I thought I'd kill myself.

You look good, though. | Buy you a drink?

No, thanks.

I wanna connect the dots, baby. | Look at the babes, Molly.

They're, like, beautiful | and natural and sexy, right?

Beauty like that is universal.

They really do look young, huh?

The thing I love about women | is that you are willing

to accept each other | for who you are.

There you are, sweetie.

You remember Julie and Holly | from the MOMA Junior Committee?

Happy birthday. | I love your solid hair scrunchy.

Thanks. | - Issey Miyake?

Home Depot.

You can get Botox injections | for that forehead wrinkle.

Face Factory. | No appointment necessary.

Why would I have | a worry wrinkle?

Why would you think | anyone would care?

Excuse me?

I had shoes like yours once, | when I was five.

That was what, | like three days ago?

Try three years.

Excuse me, Thumbelina,

but you're still a little underage | to be clubbing, aren't you?

You're a little overage to be | wearing a lampshade in your hair.

Bright idea?

You brought your own | personal soap?

You want to pick up | bacterial meningitis or polio,

you go ahead | and be my guest.

Whatever diseases | you're already carrying

probably make those | sound like a joke, anyway.

There you are. I finally found | your little monster butt.

Come here!

I know you have trouble | reading something as simple

as a sign on the door, Gooey Huey, | so let me help you.

This is the "ladies'" room.

Really? What's your excuse? | - Give me my purse.

My boss' kid. | They can't keep a nanny.

They fired their | third one this month today.

She had dirty fingernails. | It was her or me.

That hurts. | - Where's my purse?

In my hand.

Ing, am I hideous? | - What?

As my best friend, | it is your duty not to lie to me.

Please tell me, | am I turning into a hideous hag?

You can have any guy here | with the snap of a finger.

What's gotten into you?

Oh, my God.

Molly, let me show you something. | Come here.

Sit down. | - Great. You again.

I want to thank you all | for having me here.

I've heard there's a birthday tonight. | Where's that birthday girl?

All right. | This one's for you.

The lights beam | down from the stars

And it takes my breath away

And the tears of glee | in my heart

End up voicing words to say

All I feel is invested in this...

Oh, my God. | Who is that?

That's my boy Neal Fox.

I found him playing | at a dive in the Village.

He's smokin'.

Can I have him | for my birthday?

No, Molly, I brought him here | so Roma could check him out.

Besides, he's 100% girly free.

He's celibate, like Morrissey. | He's all about the music.

You wouldn't know real music | if Mozart hit you on the head.

Quiet, the both of you.

Quiet? This place is so loud, | it is giving me a migraine.

My call of love

Then she'll rise with love...

Mom!

No, your mom's over there | talkin' to my man Nas.

We been tryin' | to sign him for months.

Could you please keep it down? | - Mom, I wanna go home now!

Night, Molls. | - Bye.

Good night, Molly! | - Bye!

I finished my new record and... | - That's great, Duncan.

Nice to see you. Where is he? | "- ,,,"give me your two cents.

Huey said this guy | is practically a monk.

What the hell | are you trying to prove?

The only reason you're looking | at this guy is because you can't have him.

He's a rock 'n' roll | poet sex god.

You'll toss him in a week.

No, Ing, this one's different.

I can feel it.

That was good.

Kid, I haven't heard | blue-eyed soul like that

since Jeff Buckley's record.

See what I'm sayin'?

What did I tell you, Roma? | He's smokin', right?

You did good, Huey. | - I need eight hours, Mom.

If I don't get eight hours, | my immune system crashes.

Record something more up-tempo | I can get on the radio.

Let's go. | - Work it out with Huey.

Go...

That's what I'm talkin' about. | She gets it.

I get it. | You don't get it.

Wait... | - Neal, you need to get it.

I think we got ourselves | a Grammy!

I hate that...

Kids! Always hogging | your attention.

Hi. | - Hi. Birthday girl.

Yeah, happy birthday. | - Thank you.

Is this demo thing for real?

She's about to sign you! | I can feel it in my bones.

Rocket to the moon, baby. | Rocket to the moon.

Oh, my.

Are you really | Tommy Gunn's daughter?

Seriously?

Can you hold my purse, please?

Yeah. | - Thanks.

Jesus!

I guess there is | a certain family resemblance.

His guitars are in there? | - You wanna come see?

Yeah.

Can you just wait here | just one second, please?

Thank you. | - Yeah.

Right.

Welcome | to Le Chteau Chez Molly.

Nice.

What on God's earth is that?

Mu. | - Don't you mean oink?

No, "Mu" means "pork" in Thai.

He was going to be my curry dinner | one night in Bangkok,

but we fell in love.

If you wait here,

I will fix us some | bonbonnires confiseries.

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