STAY BACK, IT COULD BE DANGEROUS.
IT’S A HOT DOG BUN.
YOU NEVER KNOW. COULD BE BOOBYTRAPPED.
… ARE YOU JUST TRYING TO GET ME TO TOUCH YOUR PENIS?
I’M OFFENDED YOU WOULD EVEN SUGGEST SUCH A THING, BUT YES.
YOU’RE INCORRIGIBLE.
IF YOU STOP PLAYING HORRIBLE ACOUSTIC VERSIONS OF MODERN TOP 40 HITS I WILL LITERALLY GIVE YOU ALL THE MONEY I HAVE IN THE WORLD.
IT MEANS THAT MUCH TO ME.
PLEASE.
HEY, TIM.
TIM.
TIMMY.
TIMBO.
TIMBALAND.
TIMBALAND AND MAGOO.
TIMBALAND PRESENTS: SHOCK VALUE.
TIMPERATE RAINFOREST.
TIM, WAKE THE FUCK UP!
… OR DON’T. YOUR CALL. I THINK SOME PEOPLE ARE DEAD IN YOUR BATHROOM, THOUGH. WHEN AND IF YOU FIND YOUR PANTS YOU SHOULD GO CHECK THAT OUT.
THAT WAS A TRULY EPIC PARTY, T-BOZ. I MEAN IT. I’M PRETTY SURE WE SET YOUR NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE ON FIRE. I’M GONNA GO GRAB SOME CHIPOTLE. I’LL SEE YOU IN CHEM LAB.
I tell you to floss, but do you listen? No. And now look at you. Your molars look like lemon poppyseed muffins.
UHN SARRUH, DAHGGA TZDELL.
Don’t “I’m sorry Doctor Tisdale” me, Geraldine. Floss, or you will never get a boyfriend.
UHM AGJILLEH DAYDIN A SHEVNAU.
Did you just say you’re dating a chef?
YEZ.
That’s so hot. When I’m done cleaning these abominations I want details.
SISTER, IT IS BETTER THAT YOU SHOULD RUSH UPON THAT BLADE THAN ENTER THE CIRCLE WITH FEAR IN YOUR HEART.
HOW DO YOU ENTER?
With perfect love and perfect trust.
GOOD. WELCOME TO OUR COVEN. ONLY A COUPLE OF GROUND RULES:
1. NO TAKING INTO YOURSELF ALL THE POWER OF MANON. WE HAD SOME TROUBLE WITH THAT A FEW YEARS AGO.
2. YOU CAN’T WEAR A TANK TOP TWO DAYS IN A ROW, AND YOU CAN ONLY WEAR YOUR HAIR IN A PONYTAIL ONCE A WEEK.
3. ON WEDNESDAYS WE WEAR PINK.
BLESSED BE.
I’M ON FIRE TODAY, BRO. GOT A SICK PUMP ON THE DECLINE BENCH, GAVE THE HOTTIE AT JAMBA JUICE MY NUMBER, AND TOMMY AND VINCE ARE ON THEIR WAY OVER WITH SOME BREWSKIS.
WE’RE GOING DOWNTOWN TONIGHT, YOU HEARD? GONNA FIND THE MOST BANGIN’ CLUB WITH THE HOTTEST BABES AND BEAT THAT BEAT BACK, BRO. GONNA DANCE ‘TIL WE DROP.
LIFE’S SIIIIIIIICK. FOR REALSIES.
COME WITH ME ALICE. YOU’RE TOO WILD, TOO BEAUTIFUL, TO LIVE IN CHAINS. YOU BELONG OUT HERE. A ROSE IN A VASE IS NOT A ROSE IN THE FIELD. IT WITHERS.
WHERE WOULD WE GO, LUKE? WHAT WOULD WE EAT?
ANYWHERE WE WANT, MY LOVE, AND ANYTHING WE CAN CATCH OR FIND IN DUMPSTERS. YOU THINK YOU HAVE SECURITY BUT YOU HAVE SHACKLES. YOU THINK YOU ARE LOVED BUT YOU ARE A TOY FOR OTHERS’ AMUSEMENT. I WILL SHOW YOU FREEDOM. TOGETHER WE WILL BE UNSTOPPABLE. WE WILL SET THE WORLD AFLAME.
I DON’T KNOW, LUKE. YOU’RE JUST TOO DAMNED HANDSOME TO TRUST.
I CAN’T HELP THAT, ALICE. I WAS BORN THIS WAY. THE UPSTAIRS WINDOW IS OPEN. DON’T PACK A BAG.
I AM SO TIRED.
TELL ME ABOUT IT. I AM LITERALLY JUST EXHAUSTED, YOU KNOW?
WORN RIGHT OUT.
POOPED. THAT’S WHAT I AM. JUST PLAIN POOPED.
I MUST HAVE LOOKED AT A HUNDRED THOUSAND AVENGERS GIFS IN THE LAST HOUR.
OH MY GOD, I KNOW. I CAN’T EVEN COUNT THE NUMBER OF GOTYE REMIXES I LISTENED TO TODAY.
THE INTERNET IS HARD.
IT TAKES SOMETHING OUT OF YOU. IT REALLY DOES.
There was a time, long ago, in a world not unlike our own, where a writer would produce a manuscript after many laborious hours spent hunched over a typewriter of such heft and weight it could easily be used to bludgeon a burglar to death. Writers would not bash ne’er-do-wells’ heads in, of course, for multiple reasons, chief among them being that writers have nothing of value to burgle so the situation rarely arose (but also because those barely-movable metal contraptions were precious to them, strange alchemical chambers where sweat and little drops of whiskey and the smoke from a thousand cigarettes entered, and beautifully amateurish fiction emerged. This did not make typewriters expensive or burgle-worthy, just neat).