“Stop crowding me you guys,” Jeff growled at his new roommates, “or I’ll give you all two black eyes.”
“Where are you going, Jeff?”
“I’m tired of your stupid jokes, Gary. I can’t take it anymore. I’m moving out.”
“But.. but that would make us..”
“That’s right — split peas.”
“Hey, Jeff?”
“Oh god, here it comes…”
“Look! We’re—”
“Yes, Gary. I know. We’re two peas in an iPod.”
“Ha ha! Isn’t that funny?”
“Not as funny as the number of Yanni albums you’ve got on this thing.”
[ ED. NOTE: Angela has spent the day consoling poor Jeff. The little guy has nowhere to go, so I told her that he could stay here for a while so long as HEY IS THAT MY MUG? NO WAY IS HE STAYING IN MY MUG, ANGELA. ]
“Hey Jeff!”
“I am in pain here, Gary. Please don’t.”
“You know what we are?”
“Please. Don’t.”
“We’re two peas in a podiatrist’s office!”
“I want a new roommate.”
“Hey Jeff, look! We’re two peas in a—”
”Yeah, two peas in a podcast.”
“Get it, Jeff? Get it…?”
“YES, I GOT IT, GARY. Can we please get back to sharing our opinions on the Apple iPad? Don’t make me cut you.”