Post Coital Colonial Prattle #2
Hey everyone, it’s been a while since me and the G have eaten paper together – dinner’s our foreplay – but I brought GW home with me for the break. We snuck some paper in my basement while the family was eating turkey sandwiches, so I have another for y’all:
Kirk: (turns to GW) You think they heard us?
GW: (looking at the ceiling) I hope so.
Kirk: What?
GW: (agitated) Huh?
Kirk: I don’t want to fight.
GW: (slowly)Your brother goes to a different university.
Kirk: (same) My brother goes to a different university.
GW: And you don’t want to fight.
Kirk: (from under the covers) Why every time?
GW: (pulls covers away from Kirk’s face, not overharsh, but not tenderly) Baby, I need to be fed.
Kirk: (holding the covers’ edge) GW, I know. I feed you, don’t I?
GW: (turns away) I used to think so.
Kirk: You’re being dramatic.
GW: I’ve cut funding to that department! (accidental Pacino impression) You! Quiet! You!
Kirk: Why did you say what you said to my grandma?
GW: (slowly losing his Pacino) You know why I said it.
Kirk: What’s happened to us?
GW: (calmly, the Pacino is gone) Baby, GW’s been going strong as ever, what’s happened to you?
Kirk: (confused, slipping) You threw a knife at my dog and the curtains are covered in cranberry sauce.
GW: Baby, I hate cranberry sauce. You knew that.
Kirk: I hate things, too.
GW: Shut the fuck up and heat me some stuffing.
Okay, that was the second ever Post Coital Colonial Prattle. I’m Kirk, I’m still around.
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