I swear, it’s like watching high-stakes poker on TV. But high-stakes poker played by six-year-olds.
Oh yeah? I want a lot of money or I’m taking the kids because you’re a bad mom.
No I’m not and no you’re not. Read the prenup again and buzz off.
Oh yeah? Well I have a sooper sekrit sex tape and I’m gonna sell it for a gazillion dollars.
No you won’t, I’ll leak it to the filesharers first and nobody’ll pay you for what they can get for free. And I’m selling the house and buying a loads bigger one that you’ll never have been inside of. Nyah nyah.
Oh yeah? Well there is no tape. Hahahahahaha. And I’m going to write a book about you anyway and tell everybody all your secrets.
…(sigh) Okay, what’s the next card down on the table?
(Update: And now we know.)
Haha, I’m partying with Paris and you’re not.
Boo hoo. Nobody likes me, everybody hates me, guess I’m gonna go eat worms. (Noises off: “Yes, you’re right, we all hate you, just STFU.”) Also: Im sorry, I luv u, pls tk me bak…
No way. What do I need you for? I’m so important I can show everybody my crotch. Repeatedly. And I’m gonna have a big important show in Las Vegas. And I’m gonna go there for New Year’s and be the star of a big party in the club where you recorded your last flop, and you’re so not invited. AND I’m gonna be the hostess of the Billboard awards with Paris. NYAH NYAH!
(However: inferred but not yet confirmed — Britney gets wind of something that Paris has supposedly said about her. And immediately thereafter:)
And I thought you were my friend! So I’m not doing the Billboards, and you can just stand there and be host all by yourself and everybody’ll know why, you traitor. Take that!
(headclutch) Dear Goddess, it’s like watching a train wreck. It just keeps… on… going… It can’t get worse than this, really it can’t.
(waits in a resigned manner for the world to prove her wrong)
[tags] Britney, K-Fed, Fed-Ex, prenup, sex tape, did didn’t did didn’t did didn’t did so did not did so did not neener neiner niener[/tags]