“Well, dude …”
“Don’t spill it, dude!”
“On second thought …”
“What’s happenin’, dude?”
“You sure it’s safe to talk to you?”
“Safe as the bank, dude.”
“That’s what I was afraid of. But sometimes, a dude has to vault over his difficulties. As they say in showbiz, dude, it’s a wrap.”
“Plastic wrap? Use a ziplock baggie, dude, they’re easier.”
“Not that kind of wrap, dude.”
“You’ve started diggin’ Eminem?!? Dude, that’s … ow!! My toes!”
“Great hip-hop, dude. I knew all you needed was a little incentive.”
“You could’ve rapped my knuckles instead, dude.”
“Next time, maybe. I’m tryin’ to tell you about the play, dude. It’s over. Finished. All pau. We wrapped it up tonight.”
“You wrapped it up?”
“Yeah, dude. At last I can rest my achin’ knees and get some …”
“Dude?”
“Yeah?”
“Christmas ain’t for like seven months yet. Ain’t it a little early to be wrappin’ things?”
“Not if it’s wrappin’ my fingers around your neck. Which I’d do if I weren’t too tired to squeeze. Save a life and say ‘goodnight’, dude.”
“Goodnight, dude.”
– O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2010 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.
Goodnight, dudes. Well done.
I wish the dudes would have been more considerate and let you get some sleep.