“Ugh, your soup stinks.”

“What? It’s black bean soup it smells great. You think my black bean burgers smell too.”

“They do smell! They smell like BO.”

“Who have you been smelling that smells like this? They must be delicious.”

“Oh I’m not saying black beans aren’t good. I love them in my chili, they just reek.”

“You’re a bean racist.”

I'd be 25, but I could pass for 16

I’m serious! You’d have to be in the bad crowd to bust the crimes, but that’s okay, I’d be cool. And you wouldn’t have to do homework because you’re a cop, you could just fake your way through all the classes. I’ve really put some thought into it. It’s my dream job.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah, like the entire internet hates them–worst holiday commercials ever and all that.”

“How can you hate them? ‘Go Christmas! Go Hanukkah! Go Kwanzaa! Go Solstice!’ Plus there’s those cute little girls, and that one boy that does that cool move where he slides to the side. I think they’re great.”

“Hey you’re preaching to the choir here.”‘

“The internet is crazy, they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“What? Why do you think like that? It’s magical and fun.”

“I don’t know. I mean it’s not like I resent my parents for doing it–in fact my mom never has confessed, we still get gifts from Santa–and I know despite my protests I’ll still do it to our kids when we have them. It just feels weird.”

“You’re weird.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Austin: Holy CA-RAP, someone else just put in a notice!

Brooke: wow, that place is falling apart
i’m doing a sing song voice while i say that
just for effect

“Really? I must see the other face then. I’m always worried that you’re going to do something crazy like strip naked, cover yourself in probe grease, and run screaming from the building.”

“No,” long pause for high-pitched squeaky laugh. “There’s no such thing as probe grease.”

“Oh, my mistake.”

“What?”

“Yeah, look at the sign.”

“Huh.”

“What’s the difference between regular bingo and gay bingo?”

“That’s a good question.”