Are you drinking?
“It’s non-alcoholic, jackass.”
Why does everyone else have to drink it?
“I said so.”
And why is there only plate of food?
“It’s mine.”
Nobody else gets food?
“They’re all welcome to order whatever they want. 10% discount.”
What about your son?
“20% except for fish.”
Sounds right.
“Seafood prices are killing me. No one knew that running a restaurant was so complicated.”
Really?
“Of course not, jackass. I was making fun of that orange dipshit in the White House.”
It’s been an exhausting week.
“He’s gotta stroke out soon, right?”
No. I think he’s the Immortal Evil. Keith Richards will die before Trump does.
“I could send the busboys.”
You shouldn’t
“They really want to.”
Understandably. And righteously. But still.
“What if they just huck tennis balls at his bedroom window at night?”
Randomly?
“Yeah, randomly. Of course. We’re going for learned helplessness here. Keep up.”
Sorry.
“Sleep deprivation. Powerful weapon.”
Hey, man: they’re your busboys. Do what you will with them.
“And that shall be the extent of the law.”
Hail Baphomet.
“Lucifer was framed.”
Y’know what was fun? When the mics would pick up you guys arguing about how many beats the intro of Beat It On Down The Line would have, and then you get to count along with you. Really fun.”
“Get out.”
Okay.
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