You really can’t grow a beard, can you?
“You’re one to talk.”
My beard has finally started coming in even.
“What color is it?”
So I see you have a rando.
“I thought so.”
Rando War is over. These flare-ups need to stop. It’s getting…wait. I know this rando.
“No, no. I found him. He’s my rando.”
Nuh-uh. This is Mickey’s rando. I remember his eyes.
“He does have beautiful eyes.”
Just like Margot Robbie.
“Whatever. He counts.”
He does not count. Can’t repeat a rando. He belongs to Mickey.
“Um, excuse me? John, and…whoever the fuck you are–”
Are you familiar with the concept of semi-fictionality?
“–I’m not a rando My name is Hunter. These pictures were on my Instagram and I guess you stole them and posted them here so you could–
“What the fuck!?”
RANDOS MUST KNOW THEIR PLACE.
DO NOT CALL ME THAT. RANDOS DO NOT GET SPEAKING ROLES. THEY ARE SEEN AND NOT HEARD, OR THEY ARE DISINTEGRATED.
“That was a fan!”
HE WAS A RANDO AND HE WAS INSOLENT.
“Don’t call me that.”
–a point. Plus, you shouldn’t disintegrate anyone.
I AM IN A MOOD.
WE WILL DISCUSS IT LATER.
“Can we discuss the pile of rando on the sidewalk?”
Oh, go wear your sunglasses.