Aunt Becky: “Lookit my garden! I planted it full of things that sound like venereal diseases!”

The Daver: (laughs)

Aunt Becky: “You’re not going to melt in the sunlight out here, are you? I know you’re allergic to air.”

The Daver: “I’ll dart back inside when I feel I’m getting crispy.”

Aunt Becky (sighs happily): “Isn’t it pretty?”

The Daver: “Yes. But I feel like it needs…something.”

Aunt Becky: (stares at him)

The Daver: “Like an accent or something. It all looks so random.”

Aunt Becky: (stares at him)

The Daver: “You know, an accent.”

Aunt Becky: “Like a clown that pops out with his penis dancing to the YMCA?”

The Daver: “Well, that or a rock or something.”

Aunt Becky: “A ROCK?”

The Daver: “Yeah, or something.”

Aunt Becky: “I’ll get to work on the flamboyant clown.”


(at the greenhouse)

Aunt Becky: “They have accent rocks, Daver.”

The Daver: “Nice.”

Aunt Becky: “But they all say lame shit like, ‘if you weren’t my mother, you’d be my best friend.'”

The Daver: (stares into his iPhone, playing Angry Birds)

Aunt Becky: “I want an accent rock that says, ‘GO THE FUCK AWAY.'”

The Daver: “That’d be classy.”

Aunt Becky: “Or ‘Shut Your Whore Mouth.'”

The Daver: “Even classier.”

Aunt Becky: “Accent rocks are bullshit.”

(time passes)

Aunt Becky: “What about a gigantic cross with a life-sized Jesus on it?”

The Daver: “No.”

Aunt Becky: “You’re bullshit.”

The Daver: (laughs)

Aunt Becky: “I guess you better get to work, hiring the flamboyant penis-dancing clown to live in our front garden, huh?”

The Daver: “Guess so.”



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