[035] Super AIDS and Candy Apples

[TFP]

We open up in teh slaxorz locker-room where PJ Curtis sits at a table with many apples on a cookie tray that have popsicle sticks through the middle of them. He seems to be eating one of the dozen right now and Bob comes over and starts to observe what he is eating.

Bob Pocket: "Candy apples?"

PJ Curtis: "I'm trying to lower my blood-pressure and get healthy before Soul Survivor comes around."

Bob Pocket: "Soul Survivor is tonight, my friend... and you lower blood-pressure in a couple of weeks, not in a couple of hours."

PJ Curtis: "So what are you saying? That I have no chance?"

Bob Pocket: "Exactly... besides... if all you did for two weeks was eat Candy Apples, you'd have a heart attack."

PJ Curtis: "How?!"

Bob Pocket: "They call them Candy Apples because they have sugar in them, PJ! This syrup here is nothing but sugar and artificial flavour. Eat something healthy like a tangerine or yogurt."

PJ Curtis: "I'm not trying to get regular, Bob... that's the last thing I care about."

Bob Pocket: "It's the only thing that I care about. Do you know how annoying it is to hear somebody grunt in the bathroom for fifty minutes only to excrete a marble-sized turd into the toilet?"

PJ Curtis: "It's the nachos."

Bob looks at PJ with an angry look on his face, shaking his head.

Bob Pocket: "We haven't had nachos, or any Mexican food, for almost over a month."

PJ Curtis: "Yeah, but I've been backed up since my last Nacho binge."

Bob Pocket: "When was that?"

PJ Curtis: "It was the day that the first Mexican illegally crossed the American border."

Bob Pocket: "That was forever ago."

PJ Curtis: "I know and I've been having nacho binges since the day that I was born."

Bob Pocket: "How are you able to live that long without dying from being constipated?"

PJ Curtis: "I go to the hospital. They just stick a tube down my throat and suck up all the waste and tell me to come back next Tuesday."

Bob Pocket: "I never knew that you had such a rough life."

PJ Curtis: "Yeah, but it's about to get rougher. I'm at risk of millions of stomach and intestinal diseases."

Bob Pocket: "You're going to die."

PJ Curtis: "I had a good run."

Bob Pocket: "It's those bloody Mexicans!"

PJ sets his candy apple down on the table and climbs to his feet. He walks to a wall where the Mexican flag is tacked onto, hanging in homage. PJ grabs a sombrerro and bows down to the flag, one that he respects so much for what it has giving him.

PJ Curtis: "Don't you dare badmouth a country that I can run."

Bob Pocket: "Haha, what part of it can you run? Their fiesta?"

PJ Curtis: "...Fiesta?"

Bob Pocket: "Their goverment, you understand."

PJ Curtis: "Bob... fiesta doesn't mean government. It means something like... ... party, celebration, hoot-in-nanny, box-social. That kind of stuff. I don't know if they have a name for their government, but if they did I would all it... the governmencia."

Silence.

Bob Pocket: "Stupid Mencia."

PJ Curtis: "Quiet!"

Bob Pocket: "You quiet! I'll send the Colbeagles after you and make you learn the truth."

More silence.

PJ Curtis: "I think that we might have to get out more often. Yesterday might have been crazy, but that's they way I like it. Besides, it helps me in the line of excercise which can make me live longer."

Bob Pocket: "Until you catch super AIDS by coming into eye contact with strangers."

PJ Curtis: "I heard about that. Visine apparently helps a lot."

Bob Pocket: "Yeah, so does wearing sunglasses."

Bob pulls out a pair of sunglasses that have 'the Big J-L' written on the ear piece in gold-cursive lettering.

PJ Curtis: "Nice shades. Where'd you get them?"

Bob Pocket: "The Dollar Store, where I get everything."

PJ Curtis: "I just steal from the Donation Box at Church."

Fade out.