Dorothy: Wait a minute, are we really going to eat a puppy?Anita: Well, it's either that or McDonald's again.
Dorothy: Ugh. McDonalds. No thank you.
Anita: Really. And besides, Garbo threatened to call the cops if she found us going through her trash again.
Dorothy: Couldn't we just mooch off of Joan for a while longer?
Anita: Dot, I know Joan's been a real sport about letting us crash on her couch since 1934, but I think she's gotten a bit tired of us. Every time she brings home a virile young man, there we are, stinking of gin and playing Mario Kart until all hours.
Dorothy: Yeah, you're right. And I think Joan's still secretly pissed at me for downing her entire bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue Label in a single night.
Anita: You might say that.
Dorothy: Ah, the good old days.
Anita: Oh man, I can't wait to eat this puppy. Say, what goes best with puppy, red wine or white?
Dorothy: Well, considering we only have a bottle of Night Train and two forties of Olde English 800, I'm gonna say red.
Anita: It's gonna be an Easter weekend to remember!
(fin)
No comments:
Post a Comment