“Thoughts on my Ass!”

Hey, Billy.

“Look at these pants, man. Only thing sexier is what’s under ’em.”

You never change.

“Why should I? Shit’s been working for me so far.”

You’re in some pretty rarefied company here.

“Am I? I thought these were randos.”

Half the people in this picture are more famous than you.

“Wait, I know some of ’em. There’s, uh, Pimpy McGoo in the red suit. Guy next to him preaches at a church in the part of town I don’t go to. Oh, and that’s whathisface. Johnny Jersey or whatever his name is. Sings all the songs about cars.”

Close enough. Hey, you guys got a show tonight.

“Do we?”

Yeah, for charity.

“If Charity isn’t the name of a mud wrestler, then I ain’t showing up.”

It’s to benefit folks that got burned out in the recent fires, Billy.

“I dunno. I don’t see how I give a shit.”

The skank will like it.

“Skank like what you tell ’em to like. That’s why they’re skank. If you’re worried about the skanks’ opinions, then you’re worried about the wrong thing.”

I’m pretty sure you’re getting paid even though it’s a charity event.

“Oh, then I’ll be there.”

Billy, quick question.

“Five inches long but seven inches around.”

Not that question.


Please tell me we’re not going to see a story about you making women watch you masturbate.

“Make ’em? Shit, I permit them to. It’s a high fucking honor to watch me wax the turtle.”

Oh, Billy.

“Yeah, that’s what they say! ‘Oh, Billy.’ But they say it all skanky-like. There’s usually some phlegmy coughing, too.”

Have a great show.