Dude and Dude: Sew Confused

“Big excitement at OC’s place today, dude.”

“Yeah, dude?”

“Quilly got a new sewin’ machine!”

“Hmmm, ‘k. So?”

“‘Zactly!”

“So what?”

“Whatever she likes, dude!”

“[…] Y’need a whole machine for this?”

“Dude. Y’don’t wanna be doin’ this stuff by hand.”

“What? They ain’t got an app f’r it?”

“An app for sewin’?!?”

“‘Zactly!”

“[…] Dude …”

“Don’t ‘dude‘ me, dude! Quilly’s tryin’ ta be a writer, right?”

“Well, I’m sure she don’t wanna be a writer wrong.”

“Good thing, ’cause if she was tryin’ to write wrongs, she’d have to work by knight. An’ the shinin’ armor would keep her awake, like, f’rever. Chick’s gotta sleep sometime. Dude, if she wants to be a writer, she can’t be clutterin’ up her space with machines for every little thing.”

“Like what, dude?”

“Like so-in’ machines, dude. If she needs a so-in’ machine, she’s prob’ly gonna need an if-in’ machine too. An’ an and-in’ machine an’ a but-in’ machine. Where’s she gonna put all this stuff? An’ when’s she gonna find the time to write anythin’ else while she’s futzin’ wit’ these machines?”

“Oh .. my ..”

“Ain’t they got a name for it, when writers can’t handle their ifs, ands, buts, and sos by themselves? Conjunctivitis, or somethin’ like that?”

“Ay, ay, ay. Dude, Quilly don’t need no but-in’ machine. She got one already.”

“She does?”

“Yeah. You. Butt-head!”

“Careful, dude. Yer datin’ yerself.”

“Eat yer heart out, dude!”