The end of days, post apocalypse, the last Apodaca emerges from hiding, patiently awaiting the right moment where all doucebags, scumbags, and the worthless are at their weakest. In the beginning, if God created light, then in the end, I will create darkness.
Young Preist: The Apodacalypse is near.
Old Preist: Let us pray.
A female meth abuser who spends all day in her mirror dressing up and changing outfits over and over. Doing her make-up and fixing her hair for hours. Turning her bedroom into a disaster of inside out shirts and jeans.
Michelle: Where is Tara?
Amy: She's stuck in her room being a spunderella.