“Josh, you see this down here?”
“What?”
…
“Ah, you got me. I hate that game.”
arm punch
“These look like upstanding young men.”
“Both of them just offered to sell me coke.”
“I retract my assessment.”
“Bobby, have you seen Elvis?”
“He’s right there at that table.”
“Where?”
“That’s the wrong Elvis, Bobby.”
“Is it? I can’t see very well in this tux.”
“How many Demerol did Elvis give you?”
“Just one.”
“How many other pills?’
“Many. Have we lost Elvis?”
“I didn’t! I’m not in the storyline.”
“You got a lotta lines for a guy who’s not in the storyline.”
“We need to concentrate, Bob. Where’s ’89 Garcia?’
“I think I saw him out on the patio.”
“He doesn’t look happy, Bob.”
“Nope. Hold on. Jer?”
…
“Jer?”
…
“Big guy?
…
“Yeah, he’s asleep.”
“That’s unnerving.”
“You get used to it. Not quickly, but you get used to it.”
“Sure.”
“But, uh, let’s go find that hillbilly lunatic. I don’t want anything screwing up my daughter’s sorority gala.”
“Is very classy affair, Bobby Grateful.”
“Shit.”
“You’re not supposed to be here.”
“Putin daughter in sorority vith Bobby Grateful daughter.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Da. They besties. Gossip, giggle, vhatnot.”
“Get the hell out of here, you commie son of a bitch.”
“Putin in party mode. Get freak on.”
“Do not get your freak on.”
“Who’s holding?”
“No one’s holding, asshole. Get out.”
“Want to powder snoot.”
“If I get you some coke, will you go?”
“Da.”
…
“Josh, ask one of the randbros for coke.”
“Should I get some for us?”
“Well, obviously.”
“Gotcha.”
“Wait. Hey, Putin. Wasn’t 2015 Phil with you?”
“Phil Grateful right there.”
“Bobby, this is a very classy affair. Very nice.”
“Hey, Phil. Could you not bring foreign dictators to my family events any more, please?”
“I can’t promise that.”
“Who could?”
“Weir, tell your wife–”
“Natasha Monster.”
“–congratulations or whatever you say.”
“You bet. Phil, are you drinking?”
“Yeah, but it’s cool. I had Putin stop in 1972 and I borrowed my old liver.”
“Ah.”
…
“Seriously: has anyone seen Elvis?”
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