David: Gary, we need to talk.
Gary: Speak.
David: You uh, you’re not good at this. You need to be more like me: stay away from controversial things, find a nice corner of the world to avoid people, stay out of the limelight, and eat local.
Gary: I’m sorry, I just fell asleep. You’re as boring as a Russian novel. In Russian.
David: Do you know how afraid I am to check my inbox after the stuff you write?
Gary: David, the only thing that has kept me alive is a bad habit of laughing when I’m not supposed to.
David (said in progressively higher pitched voice): What. An interesting. Thing . . . to say?
Gary: What can I say? Sometimes words just poop into me head.
David: Gary, what’s wrong with you man? I think you’re pretty funny without being purposefully Larry-the-Cable-Guy’ish. We got in a lot of trouble with the DP column, it’s really hurting my political career.
Gary: That was an awful video! And idea.
I once thought about running for office, but I’m much happier being me. With the current state of affairs, public office is as enticing as skydiving without a parachute. I’m glad you’re considering it though…
In my view, “Point? Counter Point.” is the best effort at swimming humor schtick. A gold medal effort. And the classiest. It’s a micro-niche market with no other competition to speak of with the exception of Peter Busch and Mark Spitz. A classy effort nonetheless.
David: I just feel that there is something more that we should offer our readers, as far and few as they may be.
Gary: From the cocoon of class, a butterfly of humor is born. Mark my words, David, one day I will write something beautiful that will make you regret not co-authoring a romance novel with me.
David: What can we talk about that will inspire our readers? The Olympics are coming up and we should do something to get people excited about swimming.
Gary: This short video will inspire you.
David: You’re right.
Gary: You just replaced my video with a Swayze photo!
David: Patrick, you are missed.
Gary (bows head in dejected confusion): …
David: Anyway, Gary, you’re turning this plog into a 500 word Tosh.0 episode. I don’t think there’s any more room for untalented people to discuss Youtube videos on the web. So let’s talk swimming!
Gary: What’s a plog? Or Tush.0?
Barf begets barf. Therefore I barf. Why don’t you cut that rambling, self-important, politically correct, mumbo jumbo, horse spit out? Be funny for once in your life!
Why don’t you just relax? Slip into something a little more comfortable. Pour yourself a glass of white wine and check this out!
David: It just seems like we’re so mismatched…
Gary: Oh my God… Are you breaking up with me? Before you say another word I want you to watch this video. It’s going to make everything alright with us. It’s about swimming. Our readers will like us again. Just watch.
David: Okay, that was the funniest thing I’ve seen, but even a blind squirrel finds a nut. Nobody wants to read Youtube links.
Gary: Nobody wants to read. Period. Especially our fecal fodder.
David: I just wish that you’d take this column, and our collaborative relationship, a little more seriously.
Gary: You’re right. I’m going to dim the lights, light a scented candle, and I want you to give me one last chance to prove myself to you. I want to be good. I want to do the right thing. I want to inspire swimmers to care about swimming. It’s really important stuff and I need to be better. If you don’t forgive me, then fine. I’ll just go. You can leave me for another journalist, a younger writing partner with a faster spellcheck.
David: Okay, how about you use your amazing contacts in the swimming world to get an Olympian on to our column?
Davis ignored me. I feel small.
Gary: Why do you deserve to talk to an Olympian?
David: Nobody does, that’s why I want to do it!
Gary: I sometimes don’t talk to myself for hours, just to delay the pleasure of doing it. Among other things.
David: Come on man, I put up with you like 1.5 times a week.
Gary: Whatever David wants, David gets. Kara Lynn Joyce booked.
David: You just did that?
Gary: Uh huh.
David: How?
Gary: Brain.
David: Okay, you scratch my brain, I’ll scratch yours. Send us off with something stupid before you save the day with Ms. Joyce?
Gary: Once, in high school, I pooped in the warm down pool to shut down a swim meet I didn’t want to be at.
David: …
Gary: Okay, that’s all the time we have for today’s column. Dave, you have anything else you’d like to contribute?
David: …
Gary: Nothing. Again. Somebody check that guy’s pulse. I should have taken Gold Medal Mel’s advice and written this column with an inflatable doll.
(Distracted)
You think you can win this game of absurdity chicken?
Column.
A.
For.
Your absurdity fuels absurdity. To demonstrate how intentionally absurd you’ve forced me and my esteemed colleague, David Cromwell, Esquire, to become I will single handedly attempt to set a new Swim Swam record for most comments.
Utter nonsense!
It’s proposterous that you think rap music should be removed from the airwaves!