Play this song and rain mash-up to set the mood:
http://www.youtubemultiplier.com/53e182cc6f81a-rainy-hallelujah-for-project.php
Characters:
Crowley: what will you be having today, my dear?
Lana: Give me coffee, king-sized cup. Come on, kitty cat, fill her up.
Crowley: K we don’t have king-sized cups… I have a 20oz, though. You’re getting that.
*hears Hallelujah playing in the background*
Crowley: I am so sick of this religious bullshit. I didn’t come up from hell to have to listen to this shit all day.
Lana: Let’s put Jesus off the dashboard, got enough on his mind.
Crowley: He’s definitely not on a dashboard. But honey, I like your style.
J.D.: Can Christians say ass now? I have a friend, Pat Casey, he called his mum an ass once. She hit him in the face with an iron. He still goes to church, but he can’t whistle anymore.
Crowley: Oh, hello. What will you have?
JD: I’ll have a cappuccino, easy on the ino.
Crowley: I don’t know why you people are so damn complicated with your orders.
Crowley: excuse me miss, here’s your coffee.
Lana: *lights a cigarette and pours whiskey in her coffee*
J.D.: It’s 7am. Are you sure that’s a good idea?
Lana: down on the west coast, they got saying. If you’re not drinking then you’re not playing.
Crowley: Yeah, I know. I started that saying there like 200 years ago.
Tripp: *upon entering* Holy mo friggin’ shit it is wet out there! I’ll have a coffee. Black as night, sweet as sin.
Crowley: Just the way I like it. The way God doesn’t.
Lana: In the land of God’s and Monsters I was an angel…
Crowley, Tripp & J.D.: ……?
Lana: …Looking to get fucked hard.
Tripp: are you speaking in song lyrics?
Lana: Jim told me that. He hit me and it felt like a kiss.
J.D.: You know, I’m a doctor. You should really let me check you out on that. Domestic violence is a serious issue.
Tripp: Dude. She’s totally just speaking in song lyrics.
Lana: blue hydrangeas…
Tripp: what?
Lana: …cold cash, devine…
Tripp: Oh my God stop.
Lana: …cashmere, cologne…
Tripp: oh, for fuck’s sake.
Lana: …and white sunshine.
Crowley: are you drunk?
Lana: No one’s gonna take my soul away. I’m living like Jim Morrison. *puffs her cigarette*
Crowley: Fuck it. Light me up one, honey.
J.D.: Smoking is bad for you, you know.
Tripp: I don’t think they care.
Crowley: Fuck off!
Tripp: See?
Lana: dying young and playing hard. That’s the way my father made his life an art.
Tripp: Oh. My. God. STOP. Do you have normal words? Like can you physically talk NOT in song lyrics?
Lana: I’m tired of feeling like I’m fucking crazy.
Tripp: Fantastic. Is my coffee ready, yet? Seriously. I need to go to the gym.
J.D.: Yeah, where is my cappuccino, easy on the ino?
Crowley: I’m on my break. *puff* Piss off.
Lana: *long drag of smoke* *blows it in J.D.’s face*
J.D.: *coughs*
Tripp: Whatever. I’m going to Starbucks.
Lana: Be young, be dope, be proud.
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