Amy: I can't believe Myrtle's gone.
Cheyenne: Yeah, she was so sweet, and lived through so much. Her e‐mail address was from Yahoo.

Mateo: You're selling bootleg makeup.
Cheyenne: Shh. Corona turned me on to her little side hustle selling this makeup, and she's been making bank. She keeps Instagramming herself rolling around in money.
Mateo: Ew. Money is filthy.
Cheyenne: Yeah, she got a staph infection from it, but she can afford mad antibiotics now.
Mateo: Lucy May? [scoffs] Cheyenne, I've heard about this. This is a pyramid scheme.
Cheyenne: No, no, no, it's called multi‐level marketing. The different levels get smaller and smaller as you go up. It's kind of shaped like a triangle.
Mateo: Trust me. It's a scam. It'll just make your money problems worse.
Cheyenne: But it's so easy. I just recruit people, and then I get a cut. It's like I'm a makeup pimp.

Amy: When I first hired Myrtle to be my assistant, she used to leave loose hot dogs on my desk every day. I think she thought I'd asked for that, but she just really cared.
Glenn: She did. And she was really getting a lot less racist towards the end.
All: Yeah.
Sandra: She still called me Moana sometimes, but at least she saw the movie. Representation matters.