(no subject)
It's been so long since I updated, I question the wisdom of doing so now. Ah, well. Had some flirty little bits of dialogue floating in head; might as well document them. Officially.
In this very official and professional, pristinely organized, admirably managed online memorandum.
Baaaaah, dialogue:
CJ: Did you just say 'deduced'?
Danny: Yeah.
CJ: Wow.
Danny: What?
CJ: I didn’t think people in the 20th Century were allowed to use that word anymore.
Danny: I have special permission from the Queen.
CJ: Well. God save her.
Danny: Yes.
CJ: Indeed.
Danny: Conversations with you are peculiar.
CJ: Life with you is peculiar. Get out of my office.
--
Danny: Don’t ask me. Don’t ask me. If you ask me, I’m going to have to say no, and while I love it when you get pissed off, I have a hard time being thrilled when you’re pissed off at ME. So don’t ask me.
--
CJ: Out of all the things in this world that I loathe-
Danny: I’ll bet I make the top three.
CJ: It’s nice to know you deem your ineptitudes so globally important, Beef Brain. No, you are NOT among the first three people I would sent to the pits of hell were I to be made Supreme Ruler of all the Universe-but you do make the top ten, so shut the hell up and give me back my stapler.
--
CJ: Look, I will stand in front of a bad thing in a heartbeat, take it head-on, if that’s what he’s asking, but you gotta give me something.
Sam: What are you saying?
CJ: I’m saying-the shit’s gonna hit the fan.
Sam: Yeah?
CJ: And it’s MY job to stand in front of the fan, you know what I mean?
Sam: Yeah, and what do you want from me?
CJ: I want-I mean-Obviously I’d rather that it wasn’t, you know-Personally I would prefer daffodils and cedar pine, because they smell nice-but if it’s gonna be the whatever, then I want something to protect myself with-You get what I’m going for here? A raincoat, a frying pan, a...catcher’s mitt-
Sam: A catcher’s mitt?
CJ: You don’t think that would work?
Sam: I think there might be a little splatter, yes.
CJ: So, then, the frying pan probably wouldn’t be a whole lot better, would it?
Sam: Really, very, so much splatter.
CJ: As opposed to a little. Because, you know, I can handle a LITTLE splatter.
Sam: Which means what? You’re asking for a mitt now?
CJ: Of SORTS, okay-It’s not completely like--You know what I’m-
Sam: I know what you’re saying, and I’M saying…it’s a crowded field, CJ.
CJ: Sam-
Sam: It’s a crowded field, not everyone is going to get what they need one-hundred percent of the time. I don’t have mitt, or even a raincoat for you this round. It’s your job to stand in front of the fan, and at the end of the day, you may have to hit the showers. I’m sorry. That’s just how it goes.
CJ: Hit the showers?
Sam: Oh man, I would. Wouldn’t you? The smell alone-
CJ: Okay, this metaphor has gone on way past its expiration date and I think its time it died a quick and painless death.
Sam: I agree.
CJ: Please vacate my immediate vicinity.
Sam: You got it.
CJ: …Okay, yeah. So is it me, or did I just spend almost an entire conversation debating the best way to catch excrement? Christ, I need a vacation.
In this very official and professional, pristinely organized, admirably managed online memorandum.
Baaaaah, dialogue:
CJ: Did you just say 'deduced'?
Danny: Yeah.
CJ: Wow.
Danny: What?
CJ: I didn’t think people in the 20th Century were allowed to use that word anymore.
Danny: I have special permission from the Queen.
CJ: Well. God save her.
Danny: Yes.
CJ: Indeed.
Danny: Conversations with you are peculiar.
CJ: Life with you is peculiar. Get out of my office.
--
Danny: Don’t ask me. Don’t ask me. If you ask me, I’m going to have to say no, and while I love it when you get pissed off, I have a hard time being thrilled when you’re pissed off at ME. So don’t ask me.
--
CJ: Out of all the things in this world that I loathe-
Danny: I’ll bet I make the top three.
CJ: It’s nice to know you deem your ineptitudes so globally important, Beef Brain. No, you are NOT among the first three people I would sent to the pits of hell were I to be made Supreme Ruler of all the Universe-but you do make the top ten, so shut the hell up and give me back my stapler.
--
CJ: Look, I will stand in front of a bad thing in a heartbeat, take it head-on, if that’s what he’s asking, but you gotta give me something.
Sam: What are you saying?
CJ: I’m saying-the shit’s gonna hit the fan.
Sam: Yeah?
CJ: And it’s MY job to stand in front of the fan, you know what I mean?
Sam: Yeah, and what do you want from me?
CJ: I want-I mean-Obviously I’d rather that it wasn’t, you know-Personally I would prefer daffodils and cedar pine, because they smell nice-but if it’s gonna be the whatever, then I want something to protect myself with-You get what I’m going for here? A raincoat, a frying pan, a...catcher’s mitt-
Sam: A catcher’s mitt?
CJ: You don’t think that would work?
Sam: I think there might be a little splatter, yes.
CJ: So, then, the frying pan probably wouldn’t be a whole lot better, would it?
Sam: Really, very, so much splatter.
CJ: As opposed to a little. Because, you know, I can handle a LITTLE splatter.
Sam: Which means what? You’re asking for a mitt now?
CJ: Of SORTS, okay-It’s not completely like--You know what I’m-
Sam: I know what you’re saying, and I’M saying…it’s a crowded field, CJ.
CJ: Sam-
Sam: It’s a crowded field, not everyone is going to get what they need one-hundred percent of the time. I don’t have mitt, or even a raincoat for you this round. It’s your job to stand in front of the fan, and at the end of the day, you may have to hit the showers. I’m sorry. That’s just how it goes.
CJ: Hit the showers?
Sam: Oh man, I would. Wouldn’t you? The smell alone-
CJ: Okay, this metaphor has gone on way past its expiration date and I think its time it died a quick and painless death.
Sam: I agree.
CJ: Please vacate my immediate vicinity.
Sam: You got it.
CJ: …Okay, yeah. So is it me, or did I just spend almost an entire conversation debating the best way to catch excrement? Christ, I need a vacation.