*theheat

Elsanna (The Heat scene)
  • Anna:*Pulls Elsa into the bath*
  • Elsa:"I told you, I don't have to use the bathroom!"
  • Anna:"Oh, did I asked you about your bathroom habits? You were killing us out there! You don't fit in, take off that fucking jacket."
  • Elsa:"Is- is a good jacket."
  • Anna:"Really? You look like you are gonna sit on the table and do their fucking taxes, take it off!"
  • Elsa:*starts taking it off*
  • Elsa:"My God. This is ridicoulous."
  • Anna:"Just take it off now!"
  • Elsa:"Okay, okay, the jacket is off."
  • Anna:"Now unbotton your bottoms."
  • Elsa:*freaks out*
  • Elsa:"I'm a federal agent!"
  • Anna:"I know, and you look like one."
  • Elsa:"Aaaaaah..."
  • Anna:"You think you are gonna bump into him and he's not gonna think sth is up?"
  • Elsa:*unbottoms her shirt*
  • Elsa:"Okay, better? Can we get out of here now?"
  • Anna:*stares*
  • Anna:"I think it's worst. My fear is to put you into a bikini and that you still looking like a fucking bank teller."
  • Elsa:*rolls eyes*
  • Elsa:"Do you have to use that language, do you?!"
  • Anna:"I'm trying to make a fuckin' point."
  • Anna:*puts her hand on Elsa's face.*
  • Anna:"Ok. Your face, and whatever is beneath this shitty outfit is maybe not terrible."
  • Elsa:"You know, I dress properly, and I-"
  • Anna:"I got it, I got it, it's when this, *points into Elsa's mouth* your big flappin' mouth, starts running. It's just a boner killer."
  • Anna:*touches Elsa's shirt*
  • Elsa:"Wait, what- what are you doing?! What are you doing? What are you doing?"
  • Anna:"I just want you to shut up."
  • Elsa:"Gooooooood..."
  • Anna:*starts cutting Elsa's shirt*
  • Elsa:"Oh my God! I just bought five of this to Boston!"
  • Anna:"I'll cut the other four."
  • Anna:"God, that's a terrible fabric."
  • Elsa:"It was one of my favorites."
  • Elsa:*stares at herself at the mirror*
  • Elsa:"K, I look like if I had been attacked."
  • Anna:"That's not my fault."
  • Elsa:"Oh! It's my fault?!"
  • Anna:*kneels* *starts cutting Elsa's pants*
  • Elsa:"Stop cutting my clothes!"
  • Anna:"I'm making shorts! Everybody likes shorts! Jesus, hold still!"
  • Elsa:"Just... Woah, that feels awkward. Weird. Just don't touch that area."
  • Anna:"Don't hunk down, or you are gonna suck my hand in there."
  • Anna:*finishes* *stares*
  • Anna:"Jesus."
  • Elsa:"What??"
  • Anna:"What are those?!"
  • Elsa:"They're.. They are just my spanks! They hold everything together!"
  • Anna:"Why?! Wha- what's gonna come fucking poppin' out?!"
  • Elsa:"Nothing! It just keeps everything where it's supposed to be!"
  • Anna:"Shit, like medically?"
  • Elsa:"No! No medically, just.."
  • Anna:"You gotta ventillate that oven. There's a lot of compression and heat."
  • Elsa:"It gets plenty of ventilation, thank you."
  • Anna:"Srsly my hands were on fire."
  • Elsa:"K, just stop it." *tries to take Anna's vest off*
  • Anna:"N-no, I don't need that."
  • Elsa:"What do you mean?"
  • Anna:"I... I show my sensuality through movements. When this starts going on it's all... You'll get it."
  • Elsa:"So I have to look like this and you have to look like that?!"
  • Anna:"I know, it's not fair."
  • *both get the hell out of the bath*
  • Anna:"Heat it."
  • Elsa:*makes her best pose. *puts her hands on her hips* *stares sexy at everyone*
  • *Guy stares*
  • Anna:"What are you looking at?"
  • Guy:"I like how your friend's shorts nake me feel in my shorts. Gosh, sorry, that was more cool than I meant it."
  • Elsa:"Let's proceed." *walks into the crowd*
  • Anna:"Oh, God.. We are death."
An Etymology of a Name

There was never an “or” option for me.
It was very much my family telling me
you are small and annoying,
you are cute and the youngest,
you are Alex and Tu.

I learned quick that I could have it all.
I grew up thinking I was special
or whatever.

My mom told me
that she gave my brothers and I Western names
so we could blend in with y'all pale folk.
My dad is simply known as Dang at work
and my mom has adopted Rose or Jade or Knock
for her co-workers to say.

Their mouths have a hard time twisting out
names like Hiep, Ngoc, Tuan, Nghia, Huy, Tu,
so we gave them Dang, Knock, Richard, Eric, John, Alex.

I never thought of it as hiding though.
We are very proud to be Dangs.
We gave them a name to pronounce out of politeness.

Snow covered mouths cannot handle the
heat of Vietnamese syllables.

And I was special.

I could control both the clean, crisp winter
found in English and switch easily
to the fire of Vietnamese.

So much so I just combined the two
to make it easier on myself, while
leaving the rest of the world scratching their heads
and notepads trying to crack this impossible code
I call dinner conversation.

My parents always thought long-term:
their hustle boundless.

From the get go, it was important for the kids
to learn English at school,
to speak Vietnamese at home.

My mom and dad understand sacrifice
on a boss/employee level, they know
how to work with it.

But us learning another language
was never sacrifice.

We never replaced banh sao for hamburgers:
we had both.
We never switched out nuoc mam for ketchup,
we used both.

We never understood the saying about the
grass being greener on the other side
because we lived on either side and
we learned fast that it’s about how much
work you put in that reflects
the emerald shining back at you.

We weren’t Asians that lived in America:
we became Asian Americans.
We never were shy about our culture but
we never backed down from the stripes and stars either:
we tailored a flag that looked a lot like staring in the mirror.

This dichotomy that lives inside my words
never hindered me or shamed me.
I use it to my advantage.

Every racist prick learned that I could
cuss them out in three different languages.

Every well meaning question that was tinged ignorant
became an opportunity to proudly boast
about how fucking cool this all was.

My mom told me that a name
is not something chosen,
it’s something that’s given.
It’s a gift, a shield, a tool, a label.

I’ve been given so many names
growing up that I can’t help but think
There are so many different things I am called.

Good.

They can’t figure out what singular label
to put on all of this.

How could you give something this special
just one name?