Courtney: Ok, reality check. Liz is in the trunk of this car and she is dead. That is a sad, fucked up thing, but you are going to walk into that school and strut your shit down the hallway like everything is peachy fucking keen.
Courtney: Food's cool and all. You need it to live, but the mere act of eating invokes thoughts of digestion, flatulation, defecation. Even shall we say, complexion defection.
Courtney: I killed Liz. I killed the teen dream. Deal with it.
Courtney: I have this gift. I can smell a lie.
Courtney: You knew Liz Purr right?
Fern: I... I know of her.
Courtney: Knew of her. Past tense. She's dead, Fern. She died, but we've got a bit of a problem because you know we did it. You heard us. That gives you a little something, Fern and it's called power. The power to tell and you're the kind of girl that tells. A tattle-tale.
Marcie: A rat.
Vylette: This is high school, Detective Cruz. What is a friend anyway?
Detective Vera Cruz: A friend is someone who tells the truth no matter what. A true friend never lies.
Courtney: I don't believe we've met, what with the cruel politics of high school and all.
Marcie: Trends change. People change. It's all about details. Pay attention to details. Look at my nails. In junior high, I wore only pink. Now it makes me puke. So I change. See? It's called Demented. Seriously, the color's called Demented.
Courtney: Mine? Decayed. Like Julie. Our friendship with her is decayed. Rot. Julie is over. Done, null and void. In two weeks, no-one will know her including you. From now on, you don't know her. Never knew her. She's like Fern Mayo. A bad dream. Get it?
Dane: Don't go.
Courtney: Don't come.