English Script Request

Edward Cullen
The girls at the hair salon told me I'd find you here.
So, look. I'm hosting the People's Choice Awards and, it'd be great if, you know, you'd be a presenter.
Well, assuming you're not too busy brooding off by yourself like a weirdo stalker.
Come take a walk with me.
Okay.
Hey, is there a Starbucks around here?
No.
Weird.
Look, I know you're pretty busy out here drinkin' bear blood and not having sex, but, what's it gonna take to get you to do the show?
We have to leave Forks.
Well duh! The show is in Los Angeles. Don't worry, we'll fly you out first-class.
I mean my family and myself.
The whole damn family?
Look, I may be able to get 'em tickets to the show, but I can't get 'em into the after-party.
Maybe just bring your dad, Carlisle.
Carlisle's supposed to be ten years older than he looks. People are starting to notice.
Honey, everyone in LA is ten years older than they look. It's called Botox.
Can you just promise me something?
Sure, yeah, I'll hook you up whatever you need. What's this? A list of demands? Your own trailer? Personal trainer? What's an eyebrow stylist? Rum raisin... Rum raisin lip liner?
Look, I'll tell you what. I'll make sure there's plenty of hair goo and body glitter in your dressing room, deal?
No.
I'm just sorry I let this go on for so long.
That makes two of us.
Goodbye.
Goodbye? Oh, now you wanna get handsy? You got one sec to let me go, or you're getting a wooden stake through your vampire junk.
Fine, disappear! I'll just get the werewolf to do the show. You heard me! Team Jacob! Now how do I get out of here? What is it with white people and woods?