| Mam: |
Because, it's like, Frenchmen. That's what they do. Sit down, and plot ways to infuriate us Americans whilst drinking their wine and smoking their cigarettes.
|
| Jon: |
Don't forget their bicycles. Never forget the yellow jersey, lest your death.
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| Mam: |
A Frenchman has not taken the yellow jersey in decades. Not important.
|
| Jon: |
Are you sure about that?
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| Mam: |
Not terribly sure, but pretty sure. Kinda like the existence of my colon. How do I know it's there? Because I poop. That's how.
|
| Jon: |
I totally understand. I derive the existence of the French from my ability to poop. And fucking Russians because of piss. Because vodka.
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| Mam: |
Damn vodka.
|
| Jon: |
Vodka and potatoes. Vodka is used for molotov cocktails, and potatoes for potato guns.
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| Mam: |
So, while the next revolution is telegraphed, the revolutionaries will hold their ground with potato guns. Little will they realize that they are using their food supply as ammunition, and that after the revolution is over, there will be no food.
|
| Jon: |
But will they win?
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| Mam: |
I don't think that it really matters. Besides, by stating that 'they' will win, we are leaving a lot of room for ambiguity. Are we referring to the revolutionaries, or the terrorists?
|
| Jon: |
The terrorists have already won. Like in Chile.
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| Mam: |
I know. Like when the whole big news thing was about those children.
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| Jon: |
Terrible governance. Chilean children stuck underground. Tragedy. The real question is, who even lets children into a mine? That's not a good place for them to work. They should be flippin' burgers or something like that.
|
| Stacey: |
Hi guys. What'cha talking about?
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| Mam: |
Chilean miners.
|
| Elizabeth: |
Oh! I get that one now. That's not funny guys.
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| Jon: |
That was the whole crux of our argument.
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| Mam: |
Terrorists.
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| Jon: |
The American dialog post-9/11. |
