Grimes: Hi. I’m Grimes.

Gordon Ramsay: Sorry, where are the wings?

GRI: On my back.

GR: Is this not an episode of Hot Ones? Where’s the fuckin’ sauce?

GRI: Actually, Gordon, this is a tell-all interview for the Wellesley Snooze about what it’s like to be a woman in this industry. 

GR: In the restaurant industry?

GRI: No. In the industry of life.

GR: Right, what are you on about?

GRI: I’m a mother. I’m a lover. I’m a mushroom. I’m a prethident. And that, like, really taketh a toll on me. 

GR: Fuck’s sake, you’re one of those druggies!

GRI: Actually, I only eat shrimp. I’m in my seafood phase. My upcoming album is called The Cambrian Explosion and it’s about the inward debate of whether or not to eat fish while pregnant. Like, sushi’s not okay, but what about cooked crustaceans? Is that fine?

GR: Right, so you’re not a druggie, you’re just a musician? Explains a lot. Well, from a chef’s perspective, just make sure that your fish is fresh and sufficiently cooked. 

GRI: I smear shrimp in butter and leave them under my lizard’s UV lamp. 

GR: Oh for fuck’s sake. 

GRI: What’s with the hothtility? Back your truck up. 

GR: Here’s the problem with you people—

GRI: —and what are my people, Gordon? 

GR: Canadians on crack. Anyway, the problem with you blue-haired libtards is that you’re crock full of shite and you speak out of your bumhole.

GRI: I actually had mine sealed.

GR: Yep, I’m leaving.