“Damn. I forget them every time I leave the house.”
“With Raymond, we’ll never hear a peep out of him. We can take him anywhere! There’ll be way fewer stinky diapers.”
“It’s so horrible to lose Jason,” said the teen’s father. “I was sure he’d end up in the NFL or President of the United States. His mother and I will mourn him and miss him forever. Shame about Mary, too, I guess.”
"Man, my inhabitants have like no self-control," said our annoyed planet. "Today was supposed to celebrate me, and instead, it's all about these fatsos."
"Hey there. Are you OK?"
According to sources on the scene, Francisco Garcia, entering week four of quarantine, was over an hour into his engaging, 3:30 AM conversation with Mr. Refrigerator and Señorita Dishwasher before he noticed that Professor Stove had remained silent.
Can't be too careful.
“I could wait until the mailman gets here, I guess, and just go for it. But I hate to just take out one old, fat divorced guy. Allah’s made it pretty clear you only get one virgin for that.”
Said McDonald’s frequenter Shane O’Hara, “I grew up outside Dublin, and our family’s main entrée was leprechaun burgers. We’d hunt those suckers down, throw ’em in a boiling pot like lobsters, and then shape ’em into patties. I don’t know how Micky D’s did it, but this ‘impossible’ version of theirs is spot on!”