You’re 40.

“I’m young at heart.”

Hey, it’s Paul Scheer! I love that guy. He’s funny as hell. Why don’t you have more friends like him instead of Steve Aoki?

“There’s nothing wrong with Steve Aoki.”

Steve Aoki is human polio.

“He is not.”

If you swim in the same pool as Steve Aoki, you’re crippled for the rest of your life. Steve Aoki puts people in iron lungs.

“Well, he’s not here.”

No, Dullverine is. Jesus, Mayer, I cannot ask you again to just get a drug problem like a proper Grateful Dead.

“I like experiencing life, man.”

What you’re doing is not experiencing life. Shooting coke and running through a plate-glass window? Now that’s a life experience.

“Afraid of needles.”

Then hire a guy and do your coke Stevie Nicks-style.

“I don’t get what you’re–”

Boof that shit, bro.

“Ew.”

Mix in a little bit of oxy and call it a speedboof.

“Can I go back to the wrestling?”

Is it still going on?

You do there’s such a thing as gay porn, right?

“I do, yes.”

Just watch the real thing, man. Do these guys even fuck each other?

“Of course not.”

Wow. Y’know, I’m finding this whole spectacle rather heteronormative.

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

John, what’s your position on the Avital Ronell scandal and the ramifications it may have for the #metoo movement?

“I have no position on whatever the hell you’re talking about.”

Are you the only famous person there?

“No way, dude. Tons of celebrities in the house.”

Like who?

“Hello.”

“I’m Taboo from the Black-Eyed Peas.”

Yes, you are.

“Red is my power color tonight.”

I’m going to talk to anyone but you.

“Have a blessed day.”

John, this is absurd.


Stop talking to Craig Finn and talk to me.

“I told you that he’s not Craig Finn.”

Make him dance. I’ll be able to tell if I see him dance.

“He’s not Craig Finn!”

“BROTHER! That there is the Craigest Finn the Hulkster’s ever seen!”

“Huh?”

“Ah, shit.”

“LOOK AT THE HULKSTER’S POTATO SALAD, LITTLE POTATO!”

“Oh, Hulk, I’m looking! I’m looking!”

“Not you, Liberace!”

“Call me Lee. Or call me Daddy. Whatever: just call me!”

“Hey! Can I talk to you over here, please?”

Me?

“Yuh-huh.”

Sure.

You look sad.

“I just want to leave my house without getting sucked into an incoherent vortex of narrational slop.”

Well, I thought you might want to meet Mean Gene Okurland.

…

“I kinda do.”

Go talk to him, champ.

“This doesn’t mean you won.”

Sure, buddy.