The Duel

"No, like, Donald, you're totally not listening. He was like, you dress like a pansy, always talking about your little kitchen trinkets, and I was like, 'you're balding and your wig looks like a robin's nest', and then he called me a 'nanny fairy tee-tee' and I was like, 'hell no' and was already holding the gun cause I was shooting birds, so, it like, you know, just happened pretty quick. Like, really fast. He was totally making fun of me, Donald. You know? Plus Reginald and Barry were already doing a pretty good job of holding him still for me."

Cookout

"What do those remind you of, little Bobby?"
"Hamburgers!"
"Well, sure, Bobby, sure, cause they are hamburgers. Of course I would've said your mom's rack, her sun-burnt tits, you know, not that I ever see them anymore, but that's... well... you're probably too young to understand this but when a woman-"
"What are you boys talking about?"

Navy

"I said I could lay twelve eggs, and I did lay twelve eggs. Navy. Couldn't give a rat's shit. Now I'm gonna smash 'em. I don't care. I'm Navy. You wanna stop me from smashin' all my eggs? Yeah right. Scrambled. Hot shit."

Be a Mind Sticker

Long Cold Nights

It was another cold January night. Old John held his glass high, gave his famous wink, swirled his classic cane, then began another one of his legendary speeches at McGallihans.

"Most cats are robots. Burt's laughing, but he knows. I one time held a baby for six years. And I damn near was president of the bank until Einstein invented moon machines, or however they call them. Hell, my wife's a Mexican. Ask Burt. She is. We made a living off drowning cats. Right, Burt? Ah, he's laughing but he knows. Cat's ain't shit."

Bagel

It wasn't Roland's gun that worried the other parishioners so much. It was more so his nine year old wife, and their ten year old son, Bagel.

Denim To Die For

"Honestly we didn't realize we wanted to start a band until we saw how the picture turned out! And Sandy already has a keyboard!"