He Later Did

“I met a girl.”

“Dude!”

“I'm in love.”

“Where is she?”

“Over there. In the blue dress. She's waving. Hi.”

“Uh, she looks kind of young.”

“She's twenty-three.”

“Dude!”

“I know, but it's different this time! She's smart, and funny, and she's into older guys.”

“I keep going over this with you, we have to be suspicious of everybody. They're looking for any weakness. And this isn't even subtle.”

“She's not one of them! This is real.”

“They're everywhere! They would love to disrupt this... primary debate? Is this a primary debate?”

“I think so...”

“It doesn't matter! You know the protocols. Don't go near her.”

“I hate you! I quit! I hope you slip and fall in your dance routine!”

“Dude!”

Who Wouldn't?

“Sorry it took so long to get this together.”

“Isn't it spring...?

“Shh. The sharks of truth are here, so...”

“Lake sharks...?”

“Shush! So why don't we begin.”

“Yeah, I've been waiting for this meeting for a long...”

“Nope. Not a meeting. We're not doing that.”

“Why, because the meetings lately have gone way off the rails?”

“Did you notice that too? Stupid aliens. Did you know that advanced meeting technology is an actual thing? Crazy. Anyway, we have to get back to basics. We have to simplify. So this isn't a meeting.”

“What is it then?”

“It's an informal, um...”

“Covert.”

“Covert, yes, an informal covert... happening?”

“Convergence.”

“I don't know...”

“Coven.”

“What?”

“Crucible.”

“Why are you saying these words?”

“Continuum.”

“It doesn't matter! We have important things to discuss.”

“Like the war?”

“Yes! And here's the thing—there is no war! There never was. We have never been at war. It's all a lie. We have to find out what they're distracting us from.”

“Cuntstorm! Ooh, the sharks liked that one.”

The Dog Is Appalled

“Your workers just left it here.”

“...”

“No, it happened about twenty minutes ago. It looks like it just happened, or like it's still happening, like it's about to crash into the couch, but if you look closely there's no real indication of movement.”

“...”

“That's not why I'm calling. Actually, I was wondering if we could keep it.”

“...”

“Just the ball. You can have the rope back.”

“...”

“Well, my husband wants it.”

“...”

“He... likes it. He can't take his eyes off it. Something about the roundness and the destruction... Look, when you've been married this long, anything than can spark a...”

“...”

“Oh! I had no idea.”

“...”

“That sounds reasonable. I'll let you know. Good-bye. They said we can rent it. Apparently this happens all the time. They even have a website, wreckthemballs.com. Did you want to...?”

“PREPARE YOURSELF, WOMAN!”

Robot Or

“It's usually around two hundred, but if you want something special it can go up to five.”

“What do you mean 'something special'?”

“Oh, you know, the sorts of things that don't normally happen.”

“Wait—did you say robot horse or robot whores?”

“Whores.”

“All right, now I'm confused. You're riding a robot horse...”

“Correct.”

“...and robot whores are a thing too?”

“Yes.”

“Are they made by the same company?”

“No, two different companies.”

“And those are the only two kinds of robots that exist?”

“Right, the field of robotics has only advanced in the areas of horses and whores.”

“Doesn't that seem like a misunderstanding?”

“I'm not sure what you mean.”

“Like these two companies were told to research the same thing but they heard it differently.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Angry horse, attack!”