A/N: Okay, okay, I confess. I'm a dialogue junkie. If you guys would be so kind as to check me into Dialogue Junkies Anonymous, I'll be off to my first meeting before you can say, "Chandler's the king, Chandler's the king!"

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"I've decided that a snake's too dangerous."

"What?"

"You know, my thing. I wanted a weird hook, an edge – but I'm thinking the snake thing might be too much."

"Don't tell me you're still on that."

"I have to have something! I can't live as me my whole life! Sure, yeah, I could be the weird old hermit on the top floor, or – or the guy that everyone throws eggs at for a cheap laugh –"

"Oh my God, that's sick. Who does that?"

"It wasn't like we hurt him or anything – we purposefully didn't aim for his head –"

"You're going to hell for that, you know."

"I'm not proud of it now. C'mon! I was fifteen and stupid and, besides, throwing eggs at helpless old people was my compensation for all the dateless Fridays between the '80s and '90s."

"You poor, poor thing."

"You don't have to be so judgmental."

"I know. But I am."

"Anyway, what should I have? Wolf pups or something?"

"Sure, genius, trade the semi-scary creatures for red-blooded carnivores."

"I said wolf pups."

"I heard wolf."

"Maybe I shouldn't have wild animals. I could have a glass eye. Say I got it wrestling alligators in Swaziland or something."

"Do they have alligators in Swaziland?"

"Why are you being so unsupportive? It's my story!"

"Why do you even need this story, anyway?"

"If I'm going to end up alone, at least I need to be interesting – if I disappeared off the face of the earth, right now, I want kids to look back and think, 'Dude, that guy was messed up, he wrestled alligators'."

"You actually think that anybody would actually believe that you wrestled alligators?"

"What is with all the actuallys? Kids'll believe anything. 'He eats his face . . . he went backpacking in Europe without food or water . . . your father's sleeping with your gym teacher and that's why you're getting an A . . .' And that's just the basics. Alligators is basic, too – that's why I have to come up with a back story."

"You're not actually serious, are you?"

"Listen, I've been screwed over my entire life. If it's not me, then why aren't girls throwing themselves at my door? No – wait, sorry, bad analogy – why aren't girls throwing themselves at my door for me?"

"You're not an obvious kind of guy. Joey is. He's like . . . the fine cut of prime rib. But you – you're like a glass of red wine. You accentuate the prime rib, but you also have a flavor all your own. And as you keep drinking the wine, it gets better and better, till you're drunk with it. See what I mean? Yeah, the prime rib is good, but then it's gone. The red wine lasts long after the meal is finished."

"Suggestive food analogies. Just what I need."

"I'm just trying to help."

"I know. I know."

"Listen, sweetie, if you need anything, just ask, okay? I don't bite."

"I'm not so sure about that."

"Ha, ha."

"C'mon, kiddo, you know you'll miss my stupid jokes when I'm married."

"When you're married? Who's the lucky lady?"

"You, if you're unlucky."

"I'm touched."

"Good."

She smiles.

"Hey, one question."

"Yeah."

"Was it just me, or did 'accentuating the prime rib' sound really gay to you?"