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Psychic... powers... kicking in... Here's how the meeting will go: Carly: [walking into room where Mariah is seated at the piano] Hello, Miss Carey! It's so wonderful to meet you for the very first time ever before in the history of my life. I'm a huge fan! Mariah: Hmm, are you sure we've never met before? Your voice sounds familiar, and you look vaguely like a girl I met a few years ago, except fatter and more tattooed. Carly: Ha ha ha! No, no, we've never met before. Ever. It didn't happen. That must have been someone else. Mariah: Well, okay. You do seem familiar though. Carly. No, I don't. Did I mention I'm Irish? I work in an Irish bar. And I serve Guinness to people, which is from Ireland. Irish! Mariah: But I could've sworn you were the same girl. She was Irish, had a record deal and curly, poodle dog hair... Carly: Not me! My hair is straight! You know, I did have a record deal once, but my label exploded in a terrorist attack on 9/11, so nobody could buy my record. But yeah, the girl you are talking about is totally different than me. Mariah: Whatever. So whcih one of my songs have you decided to sing? Carly: I picked "My Heart Will Go On." Mariah: But... that's a Celine Dion song. Carly: No it isn't! You sang that one. Mariah: Umm, I'm pretty sure that I didn't. Carly: Yes you did. I'm Irish! Mariah: [looking at the camera] Am I getting Punk'd or something? I thought I was supposed to be the crazy one, but this girl is obviously some kind of compulsive liar and maybe even a psychopath. I know I've met her before. Now that I think about it, aren't you that girl who only sold like 400 albums and lost $2 million for her record label? I knew I'd seen you before---- Carly: [flying across the room at Mariah] GAAAAAAAAAAHHH! Mariah: [clutching her throat] My god, you bit me with your huge beaver teeth! I'm bleeding! I think you severed my jugular! Carly: [with blood dripping down her chin] No I didn't. It was the terrorists' fault. I'm Irish! [Mariah Carey passes out from blood loss and eventually dies. Carly dances a merry jig around her pot of gold.]
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