Dude and Dude Have A Bite

“Hey, dude.”

Dude!! Where tha hell ya been?

“Out tryin’ ta do s… ah, stuff afore peeps start lockin’ us all down again.”

“Yeah right. Ya really think …”


“[…] Out a practice, yeah?”

“Ain’t that one a tha symptoms a tha delta variant, dude?”



“It’d be tha coronoavirus’s crownin’ glory if’n it wuz, dude. Which means, a course, no chance. Here, have a cookie. Ya, like, clearly need brain food.”

“Cookie? Where?

“In tha bag, dude.”

Is tha bag, ya mean, dude. Ain’t doin’ it, and ya ain’t gonna be makin’ me.”


Bite tha bag, dude. I ain’t doin’ it even if’n it is saposed ta taste like a cookie, sez you. I reckon it’d be hard ta chew an’ taste lousy, even if’n I wuz a mouse!”

“That’d be Minnie, dude. Ya don’t qualify. On a couple a counts.”



First ya want me ta think, now ya want me ta do math!

“Careful how ya spell that, dude.”

“Afta you, me first!”

“Me first wants ta know what kinda mini’s gonna be bitin’ no bag, ‘stead a openin’ it like a dude with sense an’ gettin’ a cookie outa it?”

“So ya ain’t neva heard’ve a Mini wit’ teeth?”

“[…] O .. my ..”

“Shred that bag an’ ennythin’ in it like it wuzn’t even there, an’ come atcha lookin’ fer more. I wouldn’t be givin’ them no invitations like you got there if’n I wuz you.”

“Right. So, ya want me ta play tha Cookie Nazi fer ya.”

“Tha .. Cookie .. Nazi …”

No cookie fer you!

“Aw …”

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