Who Me?

"Why do you do that, Billy? Always putting a finger up the nose like that?”

“I’m not picking, Andy, I’m just scratching an itch.”

“Yeah right, that’s some itch, Billy.”

"I said I was scratching, Nancy."

“Never seen the brain scratched before.”

“Seriously, Mary, it was just an itch.”

“I’ll rip that finger off and shove it up your ass, Billy.”

"Easy Floyd, he's just a kid. Anyways, can we get passed booger picking Billy and —-“

"And eating. Booger picking and eating. So nasty.”

"Aw come on, Mary. I’m just a kid.”

"Billy, I’ll rip that booger filled nose off your face and shove it up your ass."

“Seriously, Floyd? Can we focus here? I really think we need a leader.”

“Leader? What the hell for? I don’t go much for people bossing me around, Andy." 

“What for, Nancy?  Well, for starters, the last time little Mary was at the helm we nearly drove our motorcycle off the George Washington Bridge.”

“Would have been the best thing for all of us.”

“And let’s not forget Floyd. He tried to run over all those kids getting off that school bus. I don’t think any of us want to spend the rest of our lives locked in a 10x10 cell with Bubba.”

"I should have shoved that school bus right up your ass, Andrew. How about that? Wanna walk around with a yellow bus sticking out of your butt?” 

“Wait. Is this hypothetical Bubba cute?”

“Not the point, Mary. Please focus. Leader. We need one."

“Makes sense to me. We should have a leader.”

“Oh, the strong silent Mike finally speaks. Figures you would side with Andrew. You boys always stick together. What do you think, Mary?”  

“Think? I don't think anything, Nancy. I just want to find a razor blade and do a little stress release on the ol’ forearm."  

"Would this so called leader be in charge all the time? Like what happens to the rest of us?”  

“No Billy, not all the time. Just when we are out.” 

"And not at therapy. I need to be able to express myself fully to that Dr. Roger Clark. He’s so damn handsome. Makes me want to live . . . well, at least long enough for a good rogering.”

"You can take your therapy and shove it up your ass, Mary. That gay doctor just wants to diddle us like all the others.”

"Gay? You're such a caveman, Floyd. Besides he's married.”

“To a man, I bet.”  

“Her name’s Margaret and he has a picture of her on his desk. I bet she would be a great mommy, unlike the alcoholic whore we had.”

“Maybe the Doc's a hermaphrodite then?”

“Floyd, could you just bring the intensity down a notch?”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t I take that intensity and put it right in your pooper? How ‘bout that one, Andrew?”

"That doesn’t make any sense, Floyd.”

“Oh yeah?  I’ll tell you what. Next time I’m at the helm, I’m gonna beat the crap out of the first person I see. Then I’m going to park our motorcycle right in their butt cheeks.”

“Okay, thank you for that disturbing picture. So, I think Floyd has proved your point, Andy. We need a leader. How do we pick one?” 

“A vote? I’ll start. I obviously pick me. I’m the most trustworthy.”

“I pick me because then I can do what ever I want . . . to people’s butts.”

“We should really consider cutting Floyd loose at the next therapy session.”

“I pick me.”

“I pick me. The rest of you are all nuts.”

"I pick whoever will keep their mouth shut."

“Well….I pick me. So I can grab a bottle of pills and end this nonsense.”

"Okay guys, looks like we’re waking up.”

"Yeah, and it feels like I’m the chosen personality today! Wee hoo, folks, time for the rest of you multiples to go night-night. Get ready to do some nasty butt stuff!”

“Oh, brother.”