Andie: It happened. He asked me.
Dad: And?
Andie: I accepted.
Dad: Well, congratulations. You’ll love taking it up the shitter, just like your mother.
Andie: No more moping around the house waiting for the telephone to ring.
Dad: Nah, too much ass gettin' twisted for that. So, you think you’ll let him ride bareback?
Andie: Yeah, I think I am.
Dad: That's hot. Well, who is this guy?
Andie: His name's Blane, and he's a senior. He's so beautiful. He's a richie.
Dad: A what-ie?
Andie: A richie. It's kinda stupid. It's just his family has a lot of money.
Dad: Really? Can he give me some? You know, since I like to lounge around the house in my robe all day instead of becoming a productive member of society and supporting my daughter, who stitches together clothes from scotch tape and, if I’m smelling right, horse dung.
Andie: I don't know, it's just weird. His friends have a lot of money and he has a lot of money. He drives a BMW. I just... I don't know... I'm not really sure if they're gonna accept me.
Dad: What does that mean? You like him, he likes you. What his friends think shouldn't make a difference, they’ll still pass you around like a plastic trash fuck doll and ride a train all up on your sweet ass. Hey, guys can be stupid, but they don’t pass up a chance to film a bukkake chilli dog session with a teenager. They’re dumb, not retarded.
Andie: Yeah, but it's my friends too. It's everybody. I'm just not real secure about it.
Dad: Oh, please – your friends aren’t up for some hardcore double-dong shit play? What kind of a little girl have I been raising? Now I'm starting to wonder if that’s why your mother walked out on us.
Andie: Is it?
Dad: Well, isn't it?
Andie: You're right. I'm just overreacting, aren't I?
Dad: What the hell do I care, I’m just trying to get you to notice my little shriveled-up furry balls underneath this tattered robe. Look, just don't worry about it, they’ll probably slip you something in your drink anyways. Wait and see how you feel tomorrow. Good night.
Andie: Good night. Thanks.
Dad: That's my baby. Honey? Wait a minute. Could I ask you something?
Andie: Yeah.
Dad: Sometimes I feel a little sorry that I'm the one you have to talk to about these things.
Andie: I'm not. She couldn't have said it any better than you.
Dad: No, I mean I wish there was someone else to listen to your stupid fucking shit all goddam day long. For fuck's sake, I'm a boozehound without a fucking job, MAYBE you about to go have your first Cincinatti bowtie with an alligator fuckhouse twist isn't the first thing on my goddam mind, you know?
Andie: Good night.
Dad: Good night sweetie.
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