DENISE: Oh my God. Listen to you: “I ain’t no phony.” Hey, you know what? There’s a mirror up there. Take a look — you‘re white. Anyway, why do you care what I think of you? You haven’t spoken to me since sixth grade. I know exactly who you are. You’re Kenny Fisher who used to play “Bionic Man” with me in my basement. You’re Kenny Fisher who used to sleep over my house and needed to leave the hall light on all night. You‘re Kenny Fisher who used to buy me a card every Valentine‘s Day and a bag of those chalky hearts with the little words on them. And you’re Kenny Fisher who suddenly became too cool to hang with me once we hit junior high. Because I had glasses, because I was smart, and because I didn’t look good in those skimpy little bodysuit tops all the popular girls were wearing. And anyone who can ditch their best friend like that, in my opinion, is a big phony.