Ray's got me on appetizer duty for Thanksgiving at his place, which isn't actually so bad, since I know he'll have a ton of cooktop and oven space ready for my preparations. Still, though, I had to make sure, so I rang him up.
ME: So, can I have a couple burners to prep my apps on?
RAY: Heyo! Who wants to talk to my face? Thrill a minute, bargain at twice the price!
ME: It's me, man.
RAY: That works. What's up?
ME: Can I prep some Thanksgiving apps at your house?
RAY: Apps? Fill me in, dogg. Hella slang. Apartments? Apostles? Appreciations?
ME: Appetizers.
RAY: Oh, right. You got the cooking show vocabulary happening. Yeah, you can cook here.
ME: Thanks for not making me feel like an asshole.
RAY: It doesn't come naturally, but in our friendship, I have developed certain graces.
ME: That's really wonderful.
RAY: So, whatchu makin'!
ME: A toasted pumpkin seed dip, and a crostini with pumpkin butter, cream cheese, mint leaf, and a little garlic chili paste.
RAY: Cool. We doin' a crown roast instead of turkey, just so you dig.
ME: Really? That's a nice touch.
RAY: Turkey sucks the dong. All boring, all crappy drumsticks. Hate that animal. That animal is a crap-face repeater.
ME: Yeah, I've heard people say it was designed by committee.
RAY: You know what else was designed by committee?
ME: What.
RAY: Hitler's crooked one-ball dong.
ME: Wow. Bad committee.
RAY: Worst committee in the world. Look it up.
ME: Won't, but much respect. I'll show up with my apps and a little gear, ok?
RAY: We got gear here, dog.
ME: I like my own gear.
RAY: That is rude, but who can care if a man is rude when life is beautiful.
ME: I was banking on that.
RAY: See you on the day, then.
ME: A curl of clear custard on your doorstep.
RAY: The sign of a crappin' ghost!
ME: Mwaaa-ha-haaah. [HANGS UP]
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