“Bob, I’m sorry we had to throw your sister-in-law out.”
“Oh, hey, no: if she doesn’t get escorted from at least two premises a day, she feels lazy.”
“Oh, good. Looking forward to your speech.”
“It’s a doozy. Me and Barlow figured it out, then we called an actor from Battlestar Galactica. Thing practically wrote itself.”
“Oh, yeah, so: how’s the, uh, security in this joint?”
“What do you mean, Bob? Oh, God: terrorism? Are you worried about terrorism? Is it terrorism?”
“No, no, no, no, no. I just have a feeling there’s gonna be some special guests.”
“What the hell are you talking about, Bob?”
AM I LATE FOR THE AWARD PRESENTATION? I AM SO PROUD OF DADDY BOBBY.
“Don’t call me that, Wally.”
DO NOT CALL ME THAT, DADDY BOBBY.
“Excuse me: what the fuck is going on? Is that the Wall of Sound?”
HELLO, RANDO. DO YOU HAVE A MOMENT TO SPEAK ABOUT THE UPCOMING ELECTION?
“Uh, yeah. He came to life and…y’know what? Lemme do this speech.”
YOU MAY GIVE YOUR SPEECH THROUGH ME.
“Ah. Yeah? Huh. Gonna pass, buddy. Vocals ain’t your strong suit.”
IT HURTS ME WHEN YOU MIDRANGE-SHAME ME.