Fender Bender Page #3

Rachel, Erik!

How did you guys get in here?

Spare key underneath the fake rock.

Yeah, three down, the left side bush.

God, thank God it was there.

We would've drowned out there.

- When did I tell you guys that?

- You tell us everything, sweetpea.

I could've really hurt you guys.

With your batting average,

I don't think so.

You looks so freaked out.

You should post these.

- No, I was freaked out.

- Right, let me see.

Oh, my God, you should post those.

Don't worry, I'll delete 'em.

Wait, delete my pictures?

Alright, let's eat this soggy mess.

Of course, I always delete the bad ones.

- Oh, music, we need some music.

- Hold up, will or did?

Whatever you want. You can't have

nasty shots lying around like that.

They'll end up haunting you forever.

I hear that!

You know, I once took a pic of myself

taking a dump in the bathroom mirror.

You know, just like for shits and giggles?

- And, uh...

- Ew, gross.

- I accidentally sent it to my boss.

- Mr. Bessinger?

Alright, who's hungry?

Yeah, now.

- Sodas?

- Diet please.

Real sugar, por favor.

- Hey, you guys?

- Hm?

Thank you so much. Coming over tonight.

Seriously, I really needed the company.

Well, after the day you had,

Andy, the accident.

- Andy.

- I know, I know.

We figured you could use a little TLC.

Yeah. Now, you PYT, you better

E-A-T before you waste away.

Really, I should've known

when I got with him.

I shoulda known that a day like today

was eventually gonna happen.

Oh, should, woulda, coulda.

You rolled the dice

with Mr. Fantasy Football.

Came up double dots.

So what? You're hot, he's not.

His loss, big time.

- Time to move on.

- Amen.

Whatever happened to all the nice guys?

Like when did that just suddenly change?

You mean, non-douchebags

without bloated egos

who don't feel entitled

to absolutely everything

in existence and can carry on some

semblance of an intelligent conversation

beyond that of professional

sports and/or video games?

Yes, that. Exactly that.

Yeah, sorry, gone the way

of the dodo bird, puddin'.

Actually, they do exist.

They're just all like me.

Oh, my God, that's so true.

Straight guys are all such pricks.

- You can say that again.

- Straight guys are all such pricks.

- Here's to boys who don't suck.

- Hells yes!

Ah, speak for yourself.

Alright, what's for dessert?

- There's some ice cream in the freezer.

- Mmm, perfect.

Oh, cake!

Oh, my God, so much better. Mmm.

What is that?

Sorry?

Don't tell me Andy left this for you.

Yeah, I think so.

Maybe.

It could've been somebody else.

Oh, who? I'm intrigued.

Well, the fender bender I had today.

The other driver, I think

that maybe it could've been him.

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