Mickey storms into the alibi looking p¡ssed off Mickey: “Whiskey, fvckin’ bottle!” Sammie: “What’s got you so wild up?” Mickey: “Leave me the Fvck alone” Sammie: “Hey maybe I could help” She walks over to him Sammie: “I’d consider bringing you home but I don’t have one at the moment…wouldn’t stop us from paying a visit to the alley” She whispers in his ear Sammie: “I don’t mind being bent over the dumpster for the right guy” Mickey: “I guess that makes every other guy the right fvckin’ guy” Sammie: “Oh excuse me for having a sh¡tty day and wanting to let off some steam” Mickey: “You’re not my type” Sammie: “But I could be” Mickey: “Bet you couldn’t” Sammie: “What’s your type?” Mickey: “Redhead” Sammie: “I am downstairs” Mickey: “Batsh!t crazy” Sammie: “Check” Mickey: “packin’ 9 inches”(Sweet soul he just wants his Ian, not Sammie, she needs to fvck off) Sammie stays silent and sighs giving up