Conversations with Evan
Evan: "I can translate for anyone, man. Any dialect. I am a grand master dialectician. I will spring something weird on you, and you won't even know what happened. Something like Gay Alien."
Me: "Gay Alien dialect?"
Evan: "Yes. A gay transvestite alien hooker who sells hot dogs at baseball games."
Me: "Have you ever actually met one of those?"
Evan: "...No, but wouldn't that be weird?"
Evan: "I need a cigarette. I'm getting paranoid. That's the first stage of nicotine withdrawal: first you get really antsy and paranoid, you keep looking over your shoulder like you're gonna be abducted by aliens."
Me: "Aliens again. Then what?"
Evan: "Well, that's day one. Days two through seven, you want to kill everything that moves."
Me: "Anything?"
Evan: "It doesn't even have to look at you wrong. Anything that moves, man. Some things that don't move. Things minding their own damn business. You want to stab them in the head. Something could be standing with the wrong posture and you want to kill it."
Me: "Remind me to stay away from you this week."
Me: "Gay Alien dialect?"
Evan: "Yes. A gay transvestite alien hooker who sells hot dogs at baseball games."
Me: "Have you ever actually met one of those?"
Evan: "...No, but wouldn't that be weird?"
Evan: "I need a cigarette. I'm getting paranoid. That's the first stage of nicotine withdrawal: first you get really antsy and paranoid, you keep looking over your shoulder like you're gonna be abducted by aliens."
Me: "Aliens again. Then what?"
Evan: "Well, that's day one. Days two through seven, you want to kill everything that moves."
Me: "Anything?"
Evan: "It doesn't even have to look at you wrong. Anything that moves, man. Some things that don't move. Things minding their own damn business. You want to stab them in the head. Something could be standing with the wrong posture and you want to kill it."
Me: "Remind me to stay away from you this week."