Said the Pot to the Kettle

Dick shoves open the apartment door, slams his bookbag into the carpet, and flops onto the couch.
"God, Barbie, like what is your problem!"
Barbie comes running from the bedroom. "Dickie baby, like, what?"
"Dude, you were like a total freak show last night. All the guys were talking about you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah! And, like, what do you expect them to say; your bag is bigger than your frikkin' shorts. You're like a frikkin' embarrassment."
Barbie's lip quivers.
Dick slumps on the couch. "Even when you're sober."
Barbie's mascara begins to drip. "Dickie! That's not fair."
"Like yeah, it is. Dude, like, why'd you always have to act like such a tramp?"
"Oh my god. Like you don't even do the same thing. I mean we met at Travis's party."
"Yeah, and we're dating now, and you're not supposed to do that anymore."
"Like, oh my god. I can't believe you're saying that. That is, like, so unfair. You're such an *sshole."
"God, Barbie, you're so immature."
"Oh, shut up!"
"No, you shut up!"
"No, you shut up!"
"No, you shut up!"

Someone pounds on their front door. "Hey! Y'all just shut up! Damn!"