BENVOLIO. Good God, it’s possible to do the behind-the-back shot?
MERCUTIO. I hate these tools like Tybalt. Guys who think they’re hot shit and use vocab words they picked up in the one creative writing class they ever attended. Guys who put themselves up high just ‘cause they can slam a few beers, pretend to be drunk, and wear a bow tie to a party that’s not on Halloween. This is a sad thing that we live in a world with people like Tybalt. Complaining comes so easily to them they make ironic .gif files and complain about the difficulties of complaining via Tumblr and Twitter. Goddamn tools.
BENVOLIO. Here comes Bromeo.
MERCUTIO. Aw sheeit he looks like a goddamn anorexic hoebag. He looks like a dried vag. Is this what happens when you can’t get laid? See Benvolio, this is what happens when you get caught up in chicks that are outta your league. Compared to Romeo’s girl, all the other hotties in the world are nothing but Natty Ice, Bud Light, Coors Light, Colt 45, Old English, and that new-even-shittier-than-before Four Loko. Bonjour Romeo! That’s French you ignorant bastard. You faked us out pretty hard last night bro.
ROMEO. Morning sunshine. What do you mean that I faked you out?
MERCUTIO. You juked us bro. Broke Benvolio’s ankles. Do you get what I’m saying?
ROMEO. My bad bro. I had some important bizn-ass to attend to. In times such as these, a bro such as myself may fail to follow the bro-code to a ‘T’.data-url=”http://bromeoandjuliet.tumblr.com/post/14874445671/act-2-scene-four-part-two” data-text=”Act 2. Scene Four. (Part Two)”>