WOT, NO BLOG Q DESIREE DISARRAY

BIRD: Everything OK, dude? You've been a big quiet, like.

BUFFALO: Dude, it's Desiree. She's driving me to retractions!

BIRD: Share it, dude. Lighten the load.

BUFFALO: There was a belated birthday celebration for her last nite at the old hacienda.

BIRD: Nice.

BUFFALO: She drove us all insane with her non-stop patter... "Do you want some ice cream with that cake? How about you, Joe? Ice cream? On your cake? You have to take some of this cake home with you. And some guacamole. How about you, Amanda? Cake? With ice cream? No? Some coffee, then? No? Some pop? No? Some milk? No? We have root beer, too, and Coke and Dr. Pepper, and Sprite, and Vernors, and..." Honest to God, I thought I was going out of me fookin' mind.

BIRD: Sounds like high spirits to me, old Buffters.

BUFFALO: Well, fook dat with a barge pole, dude. Everyone was catatonic from her relentless banter. I thought about drowning her in the punch bowl or sticking her head in a vat of ice cream to freeze her brain and hopefully shut down her speech center.

BIRD: Might've been a bit of a shop stopper, that.

BUFFALO: Then, at one point, when she stood in a certain light, she looked exactly like her mother (my ancient nemesis) and I almost screamed in horror. I think everyone was glad to escape. Maybe she'll calm down a bit if her parents go through with their current plan to move back here from Florida.

BIRD: What? Don't people move TO Florida, like?

BUFFALO: Not so much since the murder rate shot up. Geddit? They've been out looking for new digs. Everyone but Desiree agrees that they should buy a modest condo, but they seem determined to make it a "mobile home" instead... definition of a "mobile home" - a prefabricated domicile (loosely anchored to a concrete block foundation) that becomes mobile in the presence of a tornado, i.e., flies away like Dorothy's farmhouse in the Wizard of Oz.

BIRD: Sounds like a lorra fun.

BUFFALO: Dude, you couldn't pay me to live in a mobile home. It's not tornado alley here, but we do get them every year, and we've had a few close calls. I narrowly escaped one a few years ago while I was driving through Grosse Pointe. There was an ominous sky behind me as I left Dodge heading for Durance Vile... and ten minutes later I heard on the radio that a twister had swept through the very spot I'd been just a few minutes before. Tore a building off its foundation and carried it several hundred yards out onto Lake St. Clair, along with a few of Desiree's cousins. Mobile home, my arse. Hey, wait a minute. Hmm. Might just work.

BIRD: Dude, behave. Give her some space. There's always problems 'tween couples during the bedding in period, innit.

BUFFALO: I swear, dude, if Desiree doesn't quite yacking, I'm gonna become a Jehovah's Witness.

BIRD: Hey, woo, steady on there. Don't do nothing drastic just yet. Maybe she's just testing you.

BUFFALO: Dude, I am THIS far from testing her with a toasting fork.

BIRD: Crikey! You're really not happy about this developing situation.

BUFFALO: So much so that I told her not to call me any more.

BIRD: Good move. Let her down gently.

BUFFALO: But she won't leave the friggin' apartment, dude. I'm only talking to you now cos she's taking a dump. What am I gonna do?

BIRD: Start humping Sparky. When she gets out of the bathroom, she'll get the message.

BUFFALO: Are you friggin' insane?! Sparky might get the message too! The wrong message! Of all the shitty brainwaves you've had...

BIRD: Don't really hump him, like. Fake it.

BUFFALO: Oh, fake it! Yeah, I could do that. Hold on, I can hear her fumbling with the faucet. Sparky, could you come out of your cave for a mo? There's something I'd like you to do for me. Dude, you're a genius.

BIRD: Good luck.

SPARKY: What's going on, man?

BUFFALO: Bend over. I'll explain later.

DESIREE: What's that, hon?!

BIRD: Film at eleven?

BUFFALO: Arf, arf!

DESIREE: Now does anybody want more ice cream? What the...