24 July 07
Xena & Slope
“Xena,” I said, “every time I come to see you, Slope and Bones talk all kinds of rubbish about me being an Englishman.”
“Yeah, well,” Xena said, “when Americans talk shit about foreigners they’re talkin’ shit about themselves too 'cause America is made up of foreigners. Slope’s got a split personality anyway.”
“Yeah. I think Slope secretly wants to move to England.”
“With you spotted-dick-eatin’ motherfuckers! Spotted dick over here is a cock infected with the clap. Y’all eat spotted dick, man. There’s somethin’ freaky goin’ on across the pond.”
“All the more reason for Slope to go there,” Xena said.
“Lookit, I know for a fact that the goddamn Limeys would like me to go there to show 'em how we do it in America. They’re so uptight you couldn’t drive a BB up their asses with a ball-peen hammer and a sowin’ needle. I’d get good and drunk and charge around their houses with my wiener in my hand. I’d get my motorceeckle indoors, smoke it up, and lay some skid marks on their dining-room floors. And I’d piss in all their cricket trophies.”
“Slope would bring all his American ways, and England would be bled out," Xena said. "Before you know it there’d be a buncha rednecks takin’ over England, chewin’ tobacco, spittin’ beer, runnin’ around your houses with their wieners in their hands, bouncin’ them off the walls.”
“At least I know where to put my wiener.” Slope said. “I’d be the one their moms warned 'em about.”
“It’s mums not moms,” I said.
“It takes a special kinda person to be a mom,” Slope said. “And I should know 'cause I’m a motherfucker.”
“But he ain’t never fucked me,” said Xena.
“’Cause I’m too damn short. I’d need a stepladder.”
If Slope were ever to get to England, what would the people make of him?
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