Ted: Shit. I can never get a signal in your apartment. Hey, can I use your laptop?
John: Yeah, go ahead.
Ted: Okay, thanks. [slides off the couch and walks into another room, then five seconds later, offscreen, yelling in shock] WHAT THE ****?!
John: Holy shit, dude! What's the matter?! What happened?! What's going on?!
Ted: [views John's laptop] There's so much porn!
John: Well, what the hell are you doin' lookin' at my private shit?!
Ted: What are you talking about, "private shit"?! Johnny, it was wide open! There are literally thousands of files here!
John: Well, I've been meanin' to clear some of that out!
Ted: Jesus Chri--! Look at the organization here! "Clockwise Rim Job"? "Counter-clockwise Rim Job"?
John: Yeah, well, sometimes you like seein' the tongue go the other way!
Ted: You sick bastard! Look at this! "Chicks With Dicks"?!
John: [breaks down] Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I have a disease, all right?! I need help!
Ted: There are no chicks with dicks, Johnny! Only guys with tits!
John: Well, this is such a relief! You know, I'm so glad I'm finally caught! I wanted to be caught!
Ted: Johnny, now you listen to me. This is a wake-up call, all right? You gotta get back out there, and meet somebody, because you are spiraling outta control here.
John: All right, all right. I will. Fine. Just stop lookin' at that shit, please!
Ted: Johnny, I mean it, all right? The next chick you meet, you are gettin' back in the game.
John: Fine. I got it. Done.
Ted: All right. Now let's get rid of this.
John: What, what do you mean? We'll just delete the files.
Ted: No, no, no, no. That shit can always be recovered. We gotta smash your laptop with a hammer.
[they smash John's laptop outside with a hammer and a crowbar]
John: All right, there, you happy?
Ted: No, the circuits could still be reconstructed if somebody worked at it. We gotta bury it in the harbor.
[he and John bury the pieces of the laptop, contained within a plastic bag, in the harbor]
Ted: Okay. We'll come back once every three months, take a dive, and check on it.
John: Yeah, go ahead.
Ted: Okay, thanks. [slides off the couch and walks into another room, then five seconds later, offscreen, yelling in shock] WHAT THE ****?!
John: Holy shit, dude! What's the matter?! What happened?! What's going on?!
Ted: [views John's laptop] There's so much porn!
John: Well, what the hell are you doin' lookin' at my private shit?!
Ted: What are you talking about, "private shit"?! Johnny, it was wide open! There are literally thousands of files here!
John: Well, I've been meanin' to clear some of that out!
Ted: Jesus Chri--! Look at the organization here! "Clockwise Rim Job"? "Counter-clockwise Rim Job"?
John: Yeah, well, sometimes you like seein' the tongue go the other way!
Ted: You sick bastard! Look at this! "Chicks With Dicks"?!
John: [breaks down] Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I have a disease, all right?! I need help!
Ted: There are no chicks with dicks, Johnny! Only guys with tits!
John: Well, this is such a relief! You know, I'm so glad I'm finally caught! I wanted to be caught!
Ted: Johnny, now you listen to me. This is a wake-up call, all right? You gotta get back out there, and meet somebody, because you are spiraling outta control here.
John: All right, all right. I will. Fine. Just stop lookin' at that shit, please!
Ted: Johnny, I mean it, all right? The next chick you meet, you are gettin' back in the game.
John: Fine. I got it. Done.
Ted: All right. Now let's get rid of this.
John: What, what do you mean? We'll just delete the files.
Ted: No, no, no, no. That shit can always be recovered. We gotta smash your laptop with a hammer.
[they smash John's laptop outside with a hammer and a crowbar]
John: All right, there, you happy?
Ted: No, the circuits could still be reconstructed if somebody worked at it. We gotta bury it in the harbor.
[he and John bury the pieces of the laptop, contained within a plastic bag, in the harbor]
Ted: Okay. We'll come back once every three months, take a dive, and check on it.
Ted : Shit. I can never get a signal in your apartment. Hey, can I use your laptop?
John : Yeah, go ahead.
Ted : Okay, thanks. [slides off the couch and walks into another room, then five seconds later, offscreen, yelling in shock] WHAT THE ****?!
John : Holy shit, dude! What's the matter?! What happened?! What's going on?!
Ted : [views John's laptop] There's so much porn!
John : Well, what the hell are you doin' lookin' at my private shit?!
Ted : What are you talking about, "private shit"?! Johnny, it was wide open! There are literally thousands of files here!
John : Well, I've been meanin' to clear some of that out!
Ted : Jesus Chri--! Look at the organization here! "Clockwise Rim Job"? " Counter -clockwise Rim Job"?
John : Yeah, well, sometimes you like seein' the tongue go the other way!
Ted : You sick bastard! Look at this! "Chicks With Dicks"?!
John : [breaks down] Oh, my God! Oh, my God! I have a disease, all right?! I need help!
Ted : There are no chicks with dicks, Johnny! Only guys with tits!
John : Well, this is such a relief! You know, I'm so glad I'm finally caught! I wanted to be caught!
Ted : Johnny, now you listen to me. This is a wake-up call, all right? You gotta get back out there, and meet somebody, because you are spiraling outta control here.
John : All right, all right. I will. Fine. Just stop lookin' at that shit, please!
Ted : Johnny, I mean it, all right? The next chick you meet, you are gettin' back in the game.
John : Fine. I got it. Done.
Ted : All right. Now let's get rid of this.
John : What, what do you mean? We'll just delete the files.
Ted : No, no, no, no. That shit can always be recovered. We gotta smash your laptop with a hammer.
[they smash John's laptop outside with a hammer and a crowbar]
John : All right, there, you happy?
Ted : No, the circuits could still be reconstructed if somebody worked at it. We gotta bury it in the harbor.
[he and John bury the pieces of the laptop, contained within a plastic bag, in the harbor]
Ted : Okay. We'll come back once every three months, take a dive, and check on it.
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