MIA: For 15 years you couldn't find a spare minute to tell me that my father is a royal?
HELEN: I thought I was doing the right thing.
MIA: The right thing for who, mom?
HELEN: For all of us. I mean, if we secretly divorced he would be able to find a woman who would stay by his side in Genovia and produce heirs and I would be free to live my life with you. I mean, please! We met in college! I was young! I wanted to paint. Can you see me walking one step behind someone for the rest of my life with rules and regulations and the waving and the bowing and the scraping? I was scared!
MIA: Living with a mother who lied to me for 15 years scares me.
HELEN: Where are you going?
MIA: To straighten up the royal bedchamber.
HELEN: After the divorce, we all discussed it. Your father and your grandmother both agreed to keep that distance so you would have a chance of a normal childhood free of emotional complications .We were going to tell you when you were 18 years old. But when your father died, things changed, MIA. We wanted to protect you.
MIA: ok, you know what? I don't feel protected. You try living for 15 years thinking that you're one person and then in five minutes you find out that you're a princess. Just in case I'm not enough of a freak already, let's add a tiara!
HELEN: Well, drink your soup.
MIA: I’m not really hungry.
HELEN: Fine.Good night, sweetheart.
MIA: fat lily...you are so lucky, you don't know who your parents are.
Man: I’ve never ridden in a limo, he admitted bitterly to himself as he crossed to the open window and looked out at the bay, the fog looming like his pathetic life before him. I can't believe I won an Emmy.
HELEN: I have this favorite photo of Phillipe. We had so much fun when we were in college. He was so full of joie de verve always laughing and smiling.
Clarisse: I remember. HELEN, if Amelia refuses to accept the throne then Genovia will cease to exist as we know it.
HELEN: So the future of your country is in the hands of my 15-year-old? Here it is.
Clarisse: Phillipe was ready to be king. Then the terrible accident.
HELEN: Even though it didn't work out between us .I loved your son very much.
Clarisse: thank you.
MIA: well, as always this is as good as it's gonna get.
Clarisse: I can't wait until she's 18.
MIA: oh, this is a nightmare. I’m going back to bed.
HELEN: MIA, the three of us have to talk.
MIA: oh, ok. Is there something else about me and my life I might want to know about? Oh, no. Are you two waiting to take me on a talk show to let me know that I have a twin sister who's a duchess?
Clarisse: You have a cousin who's a countess. Fondly known as Bartholomew. Actually, we call him pookie.
HELEN: Yesterday did not go well. Will you just listen to your grandmother?
Clarisse: Amelia, in a matter of weeks we have an annual ball. I was …I am hoping that I may present you to the press and the public on that occasion. However, you desperately need some instruction. I speak for the entire Genovian parliament and the royal family.
HELEN: And I speak for this family.
MIA: Excuse me. I don’t have a family with either one of you because you ignored me for 15 years and you lied to me. Families don’t do stuff like that, ok?
Clarisse: Where is she going?
HELEN: The tower. Mia, you can’t run from everything!
Clarisse: She has a tower?
HELEN: Please? Just come down from there.
MIA: Most kids hope for a car for their 16th birthday, not a country!
HELEN: Just make yourself comfortable. This is getting us nowhere! Talk to me.
MIA: I can’t talk to you right now. I’m late for a meeting with my guidance counselor.
Clarisse: I’m late for a meeting with Spain and Portugal.
HELEN: I have a thought. Mia promises to attend princess lessons until your ball.
Clarisse: Well, it’s not my ball. It’s Genovia’s annual Independence Day Ball.
HELEN: I’m sorry. Mia promises neither to accept nor reject your offer to be royal until this grand ball and then she makes her decision. Now, can you both live with that?
Clarisse: It seems I have no option.
MIA: If I have to.
Clarisse: But I want not one word of this until that evening. Is that understood?
MIA: Duh.
Clarisse: The press would have a field day.
HELEN: Well. Let’s not keep Spain and Portugal waiting.
MIA: I’ll be 16 this year and my mom traded two paintings for a 1966 Mustang. You do know what a Mustang is, right?
Clarisse: I raise mustangs. That is not a sensible car for a princess.
MIA: It isn’t sensible for anyone. It doesn’t run.
Clarisse: I suppose I could donate something to this vehicle.
MIA: Good morning, Mr. Robutusen.
Clarisse: Who is this gentleman?
MIA: Oh, he’s my neighbor but you wouldn’t want to meet him. He doesn’t have very nice manners
Clarisse: Good morning. There’s someone I want you to meet.
MIA: OK. Whoa. You have two limousines?
Clarisse: One is yours.
MIA: You raise limousines, too?
Clarisse: No. Amelia, this is Joseph.
MIA: Hi. Nice to meet you!
Man: The elegant European woman didn’t stay for tea. But the promise of tomorrow hung in the air.
Joe: Princess, May I point out that no matter how many times you push it, it will go up and down the same way.
MIA: Joseph, can we eighty-six the flags? Please?
Joe: No. The flags allow me to park anywhere. We keep the flags.
MIA: Sorry, Joseph
Joe: You can call me Joe.
Lilly: Did I miss something? Are we going to a wedding?
MIA: Uh, no. School. No, this is the surprise ride. This is Joe.
Lilly: Hi, it’s nice to meet you. You know you look like Shaft?
Joe: Yes. Excuse me.
MIA: You want a ride, right?
Lilly: Yeah, totally.
MIA: Hey, I got it.
Joe: Of course.
Lilly: Ok. Oh, my word!
Joe: Please fasten your seat belts, ladies.
Lilly: Is your mother dating an undertaker?
MIA: Ur, no. This long-lost grandmother showed up and she wants me to use it.
Lilly: And?
MIA: I don’t know. I guess she’s just trying to be nice to get me like her. Hey, Joe? Can you please park a block away from school? I really don’t want to cause a riot with this hearse.
Joe: This is a non-riot hearse. And if it were a hearse, there should be silence in the back seat.
P.A.: This is a reminder. Virtual homework may not be submitted for actual credit.
Fontana: Tell me, Mia. Is it true about your speech? Are you really speaking at the Bulimic Convention?
Anna: So you can speak and barf at the same time?
Teacher: Good glove, Michael. Way to go. I’ll let this one go, Mia. Try catching.
MIA: Are you sure?
Teacher: it’s slow-pitch. Don’t worry about it. Now get it and throw it back to the pitcher. Come on.
MIA: I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to…Can I help you?
Teacher: Ice. Get me ice.
Lilly: I’m on the verge of becoming a nutcase and my parents think I need an attitude adjustment. Sorry. Yeah, so my dad wants to take me to dinner tonight just the two of us. We ran out of things to talk about when I was 8.
MIA: At least your dad’s still alive.
Lilly: Hey. I thought you’d gotten over that. It’s been two months.
MIA: But after all, he was my dad.
Lilly: Biologically, yes, but you never met the man. Just a nice card and gift on your birthday for 15 years?
MIA: Be fair. They were beautiful presents. Remember that Faberge merry-go-round he sent me? That was nice. And he paid for my school tuition.
Lilly: Yeah, I guess so.
MIA: Lilly, I gonna run. I gonna see your brother about my baby.
Lilly: Ok, but let’s take the limo tomorrow. These hills are killing me.
MIA: You got it.
Doc: Hello. Talk loud, I got a band rehearsing.
Michael: You’ve been listening to the sounds of Flypaper. We’re flying away now.
Doc: All right, stop yelling. They’re finished.
MIA: Hey, that’s—It’s sounding really good. You know, Ned is really wailing.
Doc: Hello, Mia.
MIA: So, what’s the diagnosis for my baby?
Doc: $400. Yeah, I know. It costs to be cool, huh?
MIA: This is not my day.
Michael: I’ll do some labor free.
MIA: Thanks, but I’ll talk to my grandma about it. It’ll be great. Anyway, I’ll see you guys later. I gonna be somewhere.
Doc: Ooh. I’ll do some labor free. Hey, you are sweet on her?
Michael: She’s my sister’s best friend!
Doc: Yeah, that’s the hardest place to be between friend and friendlier, huh?
(Sings :) I’m trying to find a way. I am trying to find a ride
Charlotte: Your Majesty, the diplomatic pouch has arrived and she’s here.
Clarisse: Send her in.
Charlotte: Yes, ma’am. I need more roses, red, white, mauve. Mauve! Miss Amelia, welcome. Straight ahead to your left. Her majesty is ready for you in the library.
Clarisse: Charlotte, take notes, will you? Amelia, circle slowly so I can evaluate the work to be done. Dose your bad posture affect your hearing? Well, carriage, obviously. Hairstyle. Complexion…Eyes…lovely…but hidden beneath bushman eyebrows. The neck is seemly. Ears like her father.
MIA: Really? They are?
Clarisse: Oh, my! Who has nails like these? Tomorrow I would like to see clean fingers. And you will wear stockings. Not tights, not socks. And I never want to see those shoes again. When walking in a crowd, one is under scrutiny all the time. So we don’t shlump like this. We drop the shoulders we think tall. We tuck under and transfer the weight from one foot to another. No. Princesses never cross their legs in public. Why don’t you just tuck one ankle behind the other and place the hands gracefully on the knees. Charlotte, I think it’s time for tea.
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