Previous entries can be found in the directory.
"Charlie & Billy Watch The Game"
“Charlie,” Billy grinned as he opened the door. “Good to see you still wearing men's clothes.”
“Says the guy in the gay pancho,” Charlie smiled, dropping a six-pack roughly into Billy's lap.
“Game's already on,” Billy said, gesturing toward the TV. “Did a cat get stuck in a tree or something?”
“Hey, don't knock the job.”
“That's what she said.”
Charlie snorted. “Besides, you're thinking of firemen.”
“You're not a fireman? That's right, they don't let homos live in the fire house,” Billy said, opening a beer and handing one to Charlie. “Don't ask, don't tell.”
“That's not what Don't Ask Don't Tell means, retard.” Charlie said, taking a slug of beer.
“What does it mean, then?” said Billy accusingly.
“It means like, if you're gay you can be in the army, but you can't do any gay stuff.” Charlie was pretty sure that was right.
“Oh right. The army. You white men have so many different ways to wear gay uniforms, sometimes I get mixed up. Speaking of which, when are you and the Village People getting back together?”
“Pretty sure there was a Native American in the Village People, too.” Charlie sipped his beer to punctuate his point.
“Not a Quileute.”
“No, you're right. I don't think there's ever been a Quileute who made any money." Charlie gestured around Billy's small house, spilling some beer as he did. "Aren't you guys communists? You would have gotten some of that money! Shit, maybe I should call Sam Uley. He and I could start a band. Help you out.”
“What, you wouldn't want to start a band with me?”
“Cripples can't play rock and roll, dumbass.”
“There was that drummer with one arm.” Billy countered.
“Def Leppard. You're right, they were pretty good. For a bunch of homos.”
On the TV, a ref made a bad call. So Charlie and Billy spent the next few minutes swearing, and farting.
“You know how I know you're gay?” Billy asked.
“Because you like having sex with men.”
“That doesn't make me gay,” Charlie grinned. “You see a lot of good looking women in this town? A man's gotta take what he can get.”
“That Carlisle Cullen is a handsome man. And he was a gentle lover.”
“You know how I know you're gay?” Charlie asked him.
“Because you own the Titanic soundtrack.”
“I told you, I like the instrumental stuff.” Billy shuffled defensively in his chair.
“Bullshit. You have a crush on Celine Dion.”
“And that makes me gay?”
“Yep. No straight man would want to hit that.”
“Don't say 'hit that.' It doesn't befit a man of your age. You're not one of Bella's classmates.”
“Bella and her friends don't talk about that stuff,” Charlie said, looking serious.
“Yeah right. You really think your daughter isn't fucking my son?”
“She better not be!” Charlie's face got a little red.
“I know,” Billy said. “If he takes after his old man, his member would be way too big for her. My name was almost Walks With Three Legs, you know.”
Charlie laughed. “You're lucky I've had enough beer to think that's funny. Otherwise I'd have to kick your wheelchair-bound ass.”
“You've only had one,” Billy countered.
“It's Saturday,” Charlie snorted. “I've been drinking since noon.”
“And you drove over here, officer? Oh boy.”
Charlie ignored him. “Speaking of which, I'm ready for another. Can I just toss this empty over there or are you going to shed a single tear for your Mother Earth Spirit?”
“Fuck you, brother. Do we all look the same to you?”
“Well, only way I can pick you out of a lineup is the wheelchair.”
“Only way I can pick you out of a lineup is the gay mustache. You look like Tom Selleck's gay brother, Tom Suckdick.”
“You look like Tanto's gay brother... Gay Tanto.”
Billy and Charlie sat in silence for a while. The home team scored a goal, so they decided to have another beer.
“You don't really think Bella's having sex with Jacob, is she?” Charlie said quietly.
“Oh yeah,” Billy replied casually.
“Shit,” Charlie said. “I thought for sure she was a lesbian.”
“Wishful thinking, buddy.” Billy sighed.