Dante Hicks:
I need two Egg-A-Moofins and we're almost out of hash browns.
Randal Graves:
[On the computer]
Hold on.
Dante Hicks:
[Through the P.A. microphone]
Now, Randal!
[Randal finishes typing something and hops back over the counter into the kitchen]
Dante Hicks:
What were you writing over there anyway, your memoirs?
Randal Graves:
I'm battling this jackass on his blog's message board.
Dante Hicks:
About what?
Randal Graves:
About how he's got too much free time and no life.
Dante Hicks:
So does the guy who's flaming him on his website
Randal Graves:
I can't help it, the guy pisses me off. It's this fuck in a wheelchair that's always preying on everyone's sympathies, writing these long diatribes about how he'll never walk again, and how walkers should appreciate the blessings of their functioning legs.
Dante Hicks:
That 'diatribes' you call it sounds like some poor, crippled guy pouring out his heart and feelings!
Randal Graves:
Oh, fuck him, man! Trying to guilt me into walking around more because *he's* all gimped out? Kind of mindfuck is that shit? So I've been getting into it with him, throwing it right back in his stupid crippie-boy face about how I love to just sit around, and how I'd rather drive to the end of the block than walk!
Dante Hicks:
The guy's in a wheelchair.
Randal Graves:
Yeah. That's why I called him "crippie-boy."
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 12:12