“Jerry, this is Ork, the guy I was telling you about. He’s gotten eight guys on ‘Letterman,’ and he can get you on there too.”
“Ork, this is Jerry. Jerry is the guy who’s going to change your mind about the Republican Party.”
“Ork and Jerry, you don’t have to tell me what can happen when a couple of neo-Bayesian iconoclasts meet head to head. I’m just going to sit back, relax, and watch you two light up the sky.”
“Jerry, this is Ork. Ork is what you might call an australopithecine’s australopithecine.”
“Okay, I invited you two because you live on my street and I try to be a good neighbor. But if I hear one word about Jamie Sommers versus Emma Peel it’s outside with the both of you. Understood?”
“Jerry, this is Ork, and, yes, he is the author of Drink Like A Caveman.”
“Ork and Jerry, I’m going to introduce you two old Yalies if you promise not to start singing the Wiffingpoof’s song. But you have to promise. Seriously, you do.”
“Ork and Jerry, I’m figuring that the only two guys in the room with prehensile toes ought to hit it off right from the get go.”
“Jerry and Ork, am I right in assuming that you both have a lot to say about the NBA draft?”
“Ork, this is Jerry. Jerry’s been in non-ferrous metals for longer than I can remember.”
