“Fail.”
“What ‘fail’, dude?”
“It’s deFEAT, dude. The agony of deFEAT. Not ‘de FOOT’.”
“Tell Quilly that.”
“Dude. Did we or did we not tell her not to let herself be defeated when she checked into that clinic?”
“One foot, dude. Defooted. Like I said.”
“Whatever. Did she listen?”
“Yeah, dude. And she wishes she hadn’t, if you must know. ‘Cause if she’d actually been defooted, she wouldn’t have gotten it nailed!”
“Oho. So that’s how come she’s been lyin’ about the house feelin’ like she been screwed?”
“Dude?”
“Yeah?”
“That’s tacky!”
“You gonna hammer me for it, dude?”
“Nah. But y’better watch what yer drinkin’.”
“How come?”
“Might be spiked!”
Next time Amoeba leaves his computer unattended, I know a couple of dudes who just might take a permanent vacation.