Tinker Bull

Pixie Chick: Poof!

Iggy Flop: What the bloody hell are you doing?

Pixie Chick: Transforming you into something easier on the eyes with pixie dust!

Iggy Flop: It's cheap glitter and a glob of it is lodged in my throat, you twit. It's not my color, either. A silver matte shows much nicer on my spray-tanned skin.

Pixie Chick: Yes, I noticed you were orange. My magic dust doesn't appear to be powerful enough to turn you a normal shade.

Iggy Flop: Achieving this shade takes precision and dedication, thank you very much.

Pixie Chick: I see you've continued the theme to your magic wand.

Iggy Flop: Equal rights for equal awesomeness, my pet.

Pixie Chick: Put some clothes on, Orange Crush.

Iggy Flop: Admission is the first step, luv. It's not easy being under my spell.

Pixie Chick: Poof! Damn, you're still here.

Mama Ciccone Wants Equal Pay for Equal Work

Mama: But Little Nonni, these conditions you have me working in are unsuitable for the mama of the Material Girl.

Madonna: Quiet woman! Keep sewing. My see-through culottes will be the hit of the tonight's premiere! Who'll be causing a commotion? Madonna! Just wait until Karl Lagerfeld sees me. He'll be sorry he's been musing it up with that stupid, young Blake Lively.

Mama: But Little Nonni!

Madonna: Little Nonni is no more. I am Madonna. JUST Madonna. It's even on my driver's license.

Mama: Do not forget, my Little Nonni, that I am the original Madonna. It's on my driver's license, too. Before you had it taken away, that is.

Madonna: What reason do you have to drive? When was the last time I allowed you to leave your shed?

Mama: You know perfectly well you took away my license when I tried to escape to La Isla Bonita back in '94.

Madonna: Mama, don't preach. You can never escape me, nor my enigmatic persona. Speaking of me, it's time I transformed again. I've been doing the aging Italian movie star for too long. I need to look younger. Lively-er! Like a lucky star!

Mama: Movie star? Have you seen any of your movies? You're more like an aging music video extra. And you know how badly they age. Just look at your brother.

Madonna: That's what happens when you only get 4 minutes of fame. Now push up your CVS glasses and let's get this show on the road. I can't be late for the red carpet.

Mama: I'm going to express myself by strangling you with my tape measure.

Madonna: I'm crazy for your ire, you tiny, poor beautiful stranger.

Mama: By the way, that pretty Blake Lively has better legs than you. Maybe I should sew you a long, wool skirt so you don't offend Mr. Lagerfeld.

Madonna: Guess who's going to be burning up in her bed tonight?

One Carry-On & One Buffoon Per Person

Ditz Guy: What do you mean, none of my things are contained in all this luggage?

It Girl: Darling, it's Fashion Week! Everyone knows you're a total nobody unless you arrive with no less than five suitcases. Of your own.

Ditz Guy: But my Hugo Boss suits! You know they cut me just right at the hips. Do you want me sitting next to Anna Wintour, looking like a fatty?

It Girl: With that face, you'll be lucky if you get a seat in the back with the stylists' assistants. The second assistants, that is.

Ditz Guy: But I'm sure your VIP status will be just fine. If you lose the wig.

It Girl: You're riding home in the cargo hold.

High Horse

Woman: Sniff What do I smell?

Horse: Nothing, baby.

Woman: Is that...marijuana? Were you smoking pot in your stall?

Horse: No baby, I swear. You know I'm not into that stuff.

Woman: I told you I didn't like you hanging out with that herd. You're a frickin' purebred. Are you willing to ruin your future - our future - just so you can party it up with the guys?

Horse: Well, in the interest of full disclosure, there were a few fillies rolling in the hay, too.

Woman: You can bet I'll be beating a dead horse tonight.

Horse: Damn, baby. Even when you're mad, you're kinky.