Hipster wedding?
“Just a wedding.”
Nah. Groom’s suit gives it away. And your presence. Hipsters.
“These people are not hipsters.
They favor lakes over rivers, and tend towards bilious rather than splenetic, and each has kissed the anus of One-Eyed Black, the goat-god who hates all. You know: hipsters.
“Just stop it.”
You going for Snow White or Red Sonja? I recommend Red Sonja, cuz she looks crazy.
“Leave it alone.”
Did you already make your run?
“Stop it.”
Did you lock your S-foils in attack position?
“Why would you even do that? It alerts the enemy of your intent.”
Don’t do that.
“What?”
Don’t nitpick Star Wars. None of it makes any sense. Why does the spaceship have fucking wings, man? It looked sweet and that’s the end of the explanation.
“Okay, fine.”
CELL PHONE NOISE
“I said I would stop nitpicking!”
I’m still mad.
…
“You’re on with John.”
“Johnny! Yachty here! Are any or all of these men your grandfather?”
“No, Little Yachty. KISS is not my grandfather.”
“Lil.”
“Little Yachty.”
“Lil.”
“I don’t want to do this bit.”
“Help me, Johnny White Guitarist! I’m sorry I forgot your last name!”
“Mayer.”
“Yachty! Nice to meet you!”
“Okay, lemme call you back.”
“You don’t have my number!”
“I know.”
DIAL TONE EVEN THOUGH PHONES NO LONGER MAKE THAT NOISE
“Jackass?”
Yuh?
“I don’t want to go on an adventure saving Little–”
Lil.
“–Yachty from KISS.”
Okay. There was only the one picture, anyway.
“God, you’re treading water.”
Hush.
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