Legal humor here.
“The Story of Your Life, fine. The Story of Our Life, not so good.”
“Well, for one thing, it’s totally not going to fit on the shelf.”
“Jeffrey, if you’re writing about me, I can tell you right now I’ll be editing that thing with a scythe.”
“It’s your fucking book but it’s my fucking apartment.”
“You’re only five, huh? Why does that not surprise me?”
“‘The Pussy Chronicles’ has been taken, Jeffrey. By me. Off the table entirely.”
“Yes, and you might find that I’ve preserved you in that thing like the proverbial faded rose. Or a squished insect.”
“I’m sorry, Jeffrey, but an explanation of that length is its own refutation.”
“Well, if you haven’t yet got to the point when I found you in bed with Joyce, when do you expect to get there?”
“Yes, I’m sure Tolstoy wrote War and Peace in his own hand as well. Good point.”
