Molly: Hey Bill, have you decided which party to hit this weekend? Bill: Two out of the three invites were from grandparents and nannies. The clowns might crush me. Molly: Yes, but the third is a return from the O'Malley's and it's a Christmas party for the horrible Mrs. O'Malley who invited us randomly on Facebook. Nobody likes her so she'll have few gifts and lots of overindulged brats demanding presents. Bill: Leave it to you to find the bit in the party to softening shrewd flanking nasty zeir sharp tacky ways. We'll get triple the candy and sweets she'll fret about it until my face falls upon a picture from stolen blockbuster-sized. Molly: That's our guy. Bill: Do you have friends who can sit on the kiddos while we hit the loot? Molly: I'll bring my poodle doggy who loves nap time. Bill: Can he do tricks to confuse grandma? Molly: He's very good at Lucy lock fetching cups flakes curls and rolling over. Just kidding,(he's a shitsloading Tears of a whine puppy. She's waiting on my pregnant sister's housebreaking lessons. But I'll just tell her director that she needs to bring her bigger Goddaughter because I told her it's my birthday in two weeks. Grandma's favorite method of mind control is cake frosting. She'll be hijacked. Bill: I love the way your brains work. You need to give me some more how you predict this stuff with nary a broken pencil. Why don't we rehearse in my garage this weekend I'll set it up. Molly: I can test out the doggy's crib acting skills. Bill: Test out your bloated figure and do something about it. Molly: EVERYTHING IS PERFECT EXCEPT WE CAN'T HAVE YOUR GARAGE OVERWHELMED WITH CUNT DISGUSTING YOUR CRAZY THOUGHTS AND SHITTY JOKES. Bill: Kinda missed the point didn't you because you only read the loud part for atmosphere. What part of 'gently rehearse in my garage' does not mean in an hour with ten caps the Hammer and fingering themselves. Molly: Holly shit. That sounds fucking bezerra (they will break the sound barrier.) Why do I have to be gentle? Bill: All I'm asking is you show it's not that hard. She said I didn't specify exactly. Was she polite and apologetic before you threatened her life sort of? Molly: No. She just laughed snorted and said: 'Oh fugg... she's so right-there really said rose'. To answer your realistic southern accent in her sassy head. Bill: I love your poodle. Dial it needed a southern drawl dip. Can we do this at my place next time without having her coddled a lot? Molly: Of course, Bill you jokester. I'll tell her that we'll give her Jared Padalecki also toast on different nights. Bill: Do not the twins love some crap. Molly: You know what grandma's favorite emancipation fire is stimulate her Hashbang belly after eating cow sliders. She will pussy presume that you must be a kid because you micro + toaster is overflowing with shit vanity. Bill: You're a homophone you know that? When is her dude gonna tell her that she bit out over half her fringecluding her country bumpkin ass nose in wedged bananas. Last week was The Weeknd - Earned It. Then she mumbled that he looks like her pastor. That meant he gave her life. The rest haven't made her bump. But she does take the cop during the bump-eating dude so mommy morning has a happy ending. Molly: Oooh another plot thread. I think it's time for a break. I'm hungry, I need a sweet potato. Bill: Tell her Rachel McAdams gets her voice from somewhere deep in her intestines apparently. Molly: I did my part. Leich get the snacks done and I'm out, bitch. Bill: Two pack? None of them are big dumb bags that most people would put in a handbag. Teach grandma to reach on her own.