“And YOU, my good sir, have developed a crotch mentality!”
Which doesn’t really mean anything, but it’d be a line in my sitcom, because sitcoms are cool that way: you can never stoop too low, because there’s a laughtrack. It’s like a ready appreciative audience.
Anyway, the censor guy would run in on the scene and shout, “Hey! That word’s not allowed!” but then the guys would shoot him with a shotgun and bury him under the carpet, and then a second censor would run in and spout stuff about not having blood and gore, but they’d shoot him too, and bite off his left leg and set fire to the wound. And Bob and Tim would dance round the fire and sing indie/tribal songs (what’s the difference?) (omg, I typed ‘tribade’ at first, and then I checked the dictionary). And they live happily ever after and have three kids and a dog. The End!
I’m not sure they make sitcoms that happy anymore, and also if I’m not sure I’m making any sense.
The Happy Family (sans three kids and dog)
(from right) Bob and Tim!
Guess who wears the pants in the relationship? NEITHER!
(And, uh, please, no one remind me of this post in future. Ever.)