“BIRTHDAAAAAAAAAY!”
Stop yelling, Shapiro.
“CAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE!”
Knock it off.
OR
Happy birthday, Oteil.
“Thanks, man. Grew up a lot this year. Gave a lot of thought to what kind of man I am, and what kind of man I want to be. What kind of family I belong to. Did a lot of thinking.”
You had a heavy year.
“I had a heavy year.”
But you have a nice cake.
“Look at this shit!”
Yeah, it’s your Vinnie Vincent makeup.
“An ankh. It means life. Same thing as a Jewish chai.”
And makes an excellent mace. Ankh is a fine melee weapon. Plus, it’s funny to beat someone to death with the symbol of life.
“That’s not funny.”
Agree to disagree. Get any nice presents?
“My family. Our health. Success and freedom and faith. I got the same gifts today I get everyday, man.”
Sure, okay.
“And my wife got me a drone.”
Cool.
“4K camera, does 65 mph, hooks right up to your phone. It’s awesome.”
Don’t hurt yourself. What did your boy get you?
“He painted me a picture. He learned how to paint this year, and he painted me a picture. It’s me and him and a giant frog. I love it. I already put it up in the bus.”
A giant frog?
“He’s really into frogs right now.”
Cool. Is that cake real cake?
“How do you mean?”
Are there eggs in it?
“No.”
What about butter?
“Oh, no.”
Then it is not cake.
“Of course it’s a cake. Look at it.”
I’m not saying that what you have there is not cake-shaped. I’m saying it is not cake. It is a cake of Dessert Substance™. No butter, no eggs, no cake. No exceptions. This aggression will not stand.
“It’s my birthday, and I’m gonna call it cake.”
Okay. Happy birthday, buddy.
“Thanks, man.”
“BIIIIIRTHDAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!”
“Shapiro! You’ve been yelling for ten minutes!”
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