“Johnny Boy!”

“Look out, look out: The Andy Man!”

“How’s my guy?”

“Goodish. Verging on good.”

“Aw, what’s the matter? It’s not your hair. Your hair looks great.”

“I know. I mean, thank you. But I know my hair looks great. It’s not my hair.”

“Is it that you can’t grow a beard?”

“I have facial hair.”

“Facial hair is not a beard. Beards cover your cheeks.”

“Andy, we’ve talked about this.”

“See what I have on my face? This is a beard. You’re rocking, like, a partial Van Dyke.”

“Can we talk about something other than my beard?”

“We can’t talk about what doesn’t exist.”

“Let’s change the subject.”

“Absolutely. Which set of Real Housewives do you wanna talk about?”

“I don’t really watch any of those shows.”

…

…

…

“How do you think that makes me feel?”

“Oh, Andy, don’t do that.”

“I work so hard getting those housewives to be real, and you just ignore all of it.”

“It’s just that I’m busy.”

“Busy doing what? Clearly you’re not busy shaving.”

“Hey!”

“You hurt me, I hurt you.”

“This is not why I came on this–”

SHWIZZZZZZZZZZLETHROOP!

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

“Jimmy Legs!”

“Hello, Mr. Brown. How do you keep finding me?”

“I am radariferous!”

“Wha?”

“Lumpy eggs!”

“Yes, yes. Lumpy eggs. What about the lump–”

“LUMPY EGGS!”

“I hate this universe.”