Exquisite Corpse
Setting: On a boat, three guys fishing.
Characters:
John
Jacob
Schmidt
Schmidt: Did you get a tuna, or what? (Cocks shotgun)
John: Feels more like your mom after we hauled her drunk ass home
from the Christmas part.
Jacob: I’d fuck your mom, Schmidt!
John: I already fucked her.
Schmidt: What the hell!! You’re sick!
Jacob: What man? I was only trying to dance with it, you know,
lighten the mood.
Schmidt: Dance with it? Looks like you’re doing more than dancing!
What’s wrong with you?
John: Tuna-dancing, I will have you know, is an important form
of exercise.
Jacob: Oh yeah, that’s usually practiced in the West Indies
though, isn’t it? I’ve never seen it done around here before.
John: Are we still talking about cannibalism?
Schmidt: No, we moved on to whether or not it’s a sanctified move
to make implants mandatory in all porn stars.
Jacob: Depends on the porn.
Exquisite Corpse
Setting: On a boat, three guys fishing.
Characters:
John
Jacob
Schmidt
Schmidt: Did you get a tuna, or what?
Jacob: I don’t… WHAT THE FUCK!!
Schmidt: Come on, help me pull it in.
John: How am I supposed to help you man, I’m holding the bucket
for Jacob. Damn sea sickness!
Jacob: What do you have there? It’s huge. Pull that shit in
faster John!
John: That’s what she said.
Schmidt: Oooo, too close to home Johnny.
Jacob: What? We’re all men here. Or well, those of us who
weren’t born with the natural male apparatus had one sewn on. Haha, I’m just
joking.
Schmidt: …Remind me to check your hospital records when we get
back.
Jacob: Not sure about that…
Schmidt: Let’s throw the body back into the water.
Exquisite Corpse
Setting: On a boat, three guys fishing.
Characters:
John
Jacob
Schmidt
Schmidt: Did you get a tuna, or what?
John: I don’t know! Help me pull it in.
Jacob: Get the net Schmidt, or wait…no, I’ll get it, it’s over
here.
Schmidt: Well, let’s hurry this up. What is that?
John: You can’t hurry perfection. I tell my wife that all the
time in the ol’ sack, if you know what I mean.
Jacob: Yeah, some of us practice what we preach, ya know.
Schmidt: Yeah, and some of us practice on peaches.
Jacob: Fool, are you drunk? John, check to make sure he didn’t
spike the bottles again.
Schmidt: Just a little Rohypnol.
John: …huh?
Schmidt: Are you hard of hearing?
Jacob: What?!
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