Jim: Andy was lit up like a church last night!
Jim #2: Was he? I can't remember. I'd wet my goozle with some hard knockout drops soon as the sun dropped.
Andy: (stumbling in) So I drank some corn juice, I remember that much . . .
Sam: 'Pifflicated, you were!
Andy: I was at that. I was seeing snakes for sure. What happened to Mary?
All: Let's not talk about the after-date.
Andy: Why not? She was strong for lovin' last I recall. (a confuzzled look crosses his face) I was . . .
Sam #2: You're no big butter and egg man from out West anymore.
Andy: What's your insinnuendo? I showed some mean stuff and now she just gives me air?
Jim: You shouldn't have told her 'bout your surety. She thinks you a chicken duster now.
Andy: I'm no . . . I suppose it's not worth discussing. I'm not sloptimist enough to think I can open her gate now.
Jim #2: Plus Jim over there told her you were a chest-pounder.
Andy: Why'd you go and do that? Drift, brother, and close the door behind you. (Jim leaves. Andy turns to the Sams) What happened last night? Which slicker brought panther-sweat to our private tunk?
Sam: You did.
Andy: I did?
Sam #2: You came blustering in about not cookie-pushing for any more high higs and how you were coming to this and every future rub stag.
Andy: She was a knock-out and a darb, but my father isn't paying this grill four thousand a year for me to be some rare lady's tea hound. I mean, she knows her oil . . .
Jim #2: She is full of vinegar.
Sam #2: And she never breaks a wing.
Andy: But she gives a lot of house.
Sam #2: That's not what I heard tell.
Andy: Where's your muffler?
Sam #2: Sorry. I can be such a sock. You want to join our cram tonight?
Jim #2: You should. You're on the mat and Sam really knows his onions.
Andy: I should. I don't want to get a letter from His Highness.
Sam: You're next invite to the Dean's formal will be your last.
Andy: (slumps) This Jewish engineering has me down on all fours. Don't get me wrong. The professor's pretty hot. When we chum he has the oil and keeps cramming. But I thought his would be a pipe and now it's all whip and over.
Sam #2: Just be sure to bone and you won't get a footing.
Jim: (runs in) C'mon, peaches, here's your can! (Jim #2, Sam, Sam #2 and Andy give chase. Homosocial hilarity ensues.)
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