Joe: I almost bought you a comic book.
Steve: Got one.
Joe: It was titled “Captain Karot and the…”
Hold on, a chihuahua just ran by my office.
Steve: Yeah, you should deal with that.
Joe: Okay, I’m back.
Captain Karot and His Collage of Friends.
Steve: I remember Captain Karot. I heard he was being revived.
Joe: You know Steve, that’s the saddest thing you’ve ever said.
Steve: I think he now officially lives on one of the 51 alternate earths of the DC universe.
Can I counter it by pointing out that I’ve never read any Captain Karot stories?
Joe: I suppose.
Maybe we could write a script for that, live action style. The best live action super hero adaptation since Howard the Duck.
Steve: It would certainly be a mind-blowing, blood-curdling, spine-shattering, gut-wrenching, ball-busting, ass-grabbing, throat-slicing, kitchen-cleaning, diet-coke-hating, tour-de-force.
Joe: I was thinking we could write a vampire script.
Oh, have you seen Gone Baby Gone?
Steve: No I have not.
Joe: It’s really good
Steve: Is it ball-busting?
Joe: Ben Affleck can direct.
Mostly because he just gets out of everybody’s way.
Steve: I can’t tell if you’re serious.
Joe: I’m serious.
It’s shocking.
Steve: Huh.
Joe: Yeah, it’s like he hired a good screen writer, a good dp, got good actors and just never showed up.
Steve: How Afflecky of him.
I think my next one will either be that, 30 Days of Night, or Michael Clayton.
Joe: You suck dude.
Big time.
Steve: I do?
Joe: Yeah, you suck the rock.
Steve: Well you suck the whole planet earth.
Joe: Hey, the whole planet earth is hot!
And you know it.
Steve: Only compared to the surrounding space, bitch!
Joe: You take that back!
Steve: I’ll take it back when your mom finishes blowing me.
Joe: My mom can’t blow you, you’re too busy gargling Rock cock, you useless Carrot-Top-copying-queer.
Steve: Yeah, well at least my bloodline makes some kind of sense, you damn Puerto-Rican/Pollack. That makes you stupid AND unwanted.
Joe: But we’re unaware of our unwantedness you French-Canadian nut butter lover!
Steve: I’m not French-Canadian, you ass-fag! I’m a Saturn-driving, Wal-Mart shopping, fast-food eating, Bush-loving, Canada-hating, ass-grabbing, fart-knocking, rock-and-roll loving, motherfucking AMERICAN.
Of French/Irish descent.
Joe: Ha.
How’s your lady?
Steve: She’s cool.
By which I mean she’s totally hot.
Joe: That’s great.
Who would win in a fight, Bryan Cloribel or Kaimo?
Steve: Cloribel
He’s got 100 pounds on Kaimo.
Joe: Yeah, but Kaimo isn’t smart enough to know when to go down, and he thinks he knows Kung Fu.
Remember when he slap boxed Ted?
Steve: Yeah, he only pretends to know Kung Fu.
He actually only took a year of martial arts and he was in like grade school at the time.
Joe: Hey, he only pretends to know English too, and he somehow communicates.
Steve: No he doesn’t.
He’s actually been talking about soup this whole time.
Joe: He’s just reading ingredients off of a label isn’t he?
Steve: Mostly, but he pronounces “glucose” as “Mountain of the Gods” and “carrot” as “Jurri hit me”
Joe: hahahahha
hahah
haha
Fucking hilarious.
Dear Jesus,
Please let Jurri fight Kaimo.
Please, please, please.
Amen.
-Joe 2:5
Steve: What does Joe 2:6 say?
Joe: It’s actually the shortest verse in the book of Joe.
Joe farted.
Steve: Dude…
That nearly killed me.
Joe: Good, your Jurri thing had me laughing out loud in a stuffy law firm.
Steve: Well I’m going to lunch. Ttyl.
Joe: k
