Charlie: Okay, Dee. The song’s history.
Dee: Thank you, Charlie. I appreciate that, ‘cause I was uncomfortable.
Charlie: Yeah, I bet.
Dee: What are we gonna sing instead? What should I sing?
Charlie: Uhhh, what’s on the back there?
Dee: It’s the same song.
Charlie: And what’s on the very back page?
Dee: Nothing?
Charlie: Ah, then that’s what you’ll be singing.
Dee: Charlie, this is my big song.
Charlie: Yeah, yeah.
Dee: Everybody else has a big song. I deserve to have one.
Charlie: Do you?
Dee: Don’t screw me like this, Charlie. C’mon.
Charlie: Don’t SCREW YOU!?!? Oh, I’m sorry, Dee. Um, let me try and remember something. Did Dee write a musical and come to Charlie with it? NO! CHARLIE wrote a musical and came to DEE with it! And the GANG! And the gang likes to screw it up and make it about themselves and take it away from Charlie and ruin his hopes and dreams. So let me tell you something, Dee. Let me break down a scenario for you. I could cut the song, okay? Because I wrote it. I could have Artemis do the song, okay? Because you did not write it. Or I can strap on a wig and I could do the song myself. So you tell me, Little Miss ALL THAT, what do you want to do? SONG OR NO SONG!?
Dee: … Well… s—song.
Charlie: *gasp* Song??
Dee: Yeah, song…
Charlie: You want to sing a song!
Dee: I never wasn’t gonna sing the song.
Charlie: You were excited about singing a song and you want to sing a song.
Dee: Yeah, I would like to do it.
Charlie: GOOOOOOOOOOD. So back up on your podium you go. Thank you.
