“I found randos!”
Oh, for fuck’s sake, Mickey: that’s Walter Cronkite and Mike Gordon. And the lady looks important. And I think that’s Steve Kimock’s hat.
“Gimme a second.”
I don’t want to.
“But you will.”
Oh, fine.
…
“Here you go. Prime rando.”
Nope.
“Not randos?”
They are actually less rando than you are, Mick.
…
“Is the guy behind me a dolphin?”
No, he’s the living embodiment of both nepotism and the different beauty standards society holds male and female movie stars to.
“Wait, wait, wait: I got ’em. I got the greatest collection of randos. Check this out.”
Jesus, Mickey.
“What? I’m standing right next to two randos!”
On which side of you?
…
“Right side?”
Wow.
“They are randos, though.”
Sure, but their rand gets overwhelmed by the non-rand surrounding it.
“I’m not great at this.”
Not at all.
…
“I didn’t know Branford was married.”
You’re not allowed to be in the Rando War anymore.
Am I here all alone?
nope
Wally C. got dosed that night. Just a bit. But he did not know.
Bobbys manager is not a rando.
Is that Matt? Damn.
The fog of war…