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The Pansy Wagon

Sent: Friday, August 04, 2000 2:17 PM
From: Mark
To: Brian, Tonya, Teresa
Subject: Tonya

 

Mark: Tonya's a big booger-picker.

 

Brian: I heard she has to shave her belly button occasionally also. Not that there's anything wrong with that. That's just all I've got on her right now.

 

Tonya: I heard from a reliable source that Mark wears ladies' underwear.....

 

Mark: I told you not to mention that.

I'll return them to you promptly.

 

Tonya: No thanks, man. You keep 'em. And stay out of my underwear drawer...and for that matter, my house... when I'm not there. Several pairs of my high heels shoes have mysteriously become stretched beyond repair and all of my panty hose are too big. I still can't find my Victoria's Secret® nightshirt with the little pink bow......

 

Mark: Oh, you've handed me a wealth of comeback material, but I'll refrain from lashing out because, after all, I am a "beautiful gentleman."

 

Tonya: No....no.....when I picture Mark, "beautiful" and "gentleman" are not the first two words that pop into my mind. Let's see if we can come up with a few that are a better fit.......I'll start with "sick" and "butt-munch."

 

Brian: Hey Mark, you bent over to get something out of your refrigerator one day and I saw the Hanes Her Way label, but I definitely didn't tell Tonya. I'm almost sure of it.

 

Mark: Why would you be looking in that area anyway, Brian? Huh?

 

Brian: Hey, you're the one that wanted to show me the fruitcake you got for Christmas three years ago. I was looking at the fruitcake. Make that fruitcakes.

 

Mark: First I've heard about a fruitcake. Nice try.

I think you're just one of those "boys" who likes to look at men's waistbands. I've heard about you people.

Stay away from me, you foul miscreant.

 

Brian: Tonya, be sure to check your pantyhose and make sure they don't have "Coward of the County" scribbled on them.

Mark: Yeah, if it's scribbled on the waistband, Brian is sure to have noticed it.

 

Brian: Okay, I was on your side up until now. I wasn't going to mention that TV repairman crack of your ass showing above Tonya's underwear.

This whole conversation is making me sick.

 

Mark: Oh, so now you're admitting to looking at my ass.

Damn, Brian, what's wrong with you?

I guess you ARE on the other side now... or should I say, playing for the other team.

 

Brian: For the last time, I was looking at that damn fruitcake and your BIG FAT TONYA'S PANTY WEARING ASS WAS IN THE WAY!

 

Mark: Incredible.

You typed that last reply and are still expecting us to believe you're heterosexual?

 

Brian: You know, you think you're manipulating the ladies into thinking I'm the queer bait although you're the one wearing the panties but that reverse psychology crap ain't gonna work on them, Ms. Tennessee. They know what kind of red hot All-American man I am. Right, ladies?

 

(silence)

 

Ladies? Tonya? Teresa? Jump in here any time.

 

(silence)

 

Right about now would be good.

 

(silence)

 

 

Mark: Seems like you're on your own, sissy-boy.

 

Brian: Hey Tootsie, why don't you go hang out around a Navy pier for a while and give them a chance to read the frigging e-mail, how about it?

Ladies? Is this thing on? Dammit.

 

Mark: I'm sorry, but I don't understand the limp-wristed lingo you're using. Don't you have a dress to iron or something? Some interior decorating to do?

 

Brian: Thanks, Thelma and Louise. You could have put an end to this by backing me up a little. That's what you can expect from people that are only one person.

 

Mark: You're in luck! I just heard the tinkling bells of the Pansy Wagon heading toward your building. You might want to enjoy a Pink Torpedo pushup or a Fudge Bar.

 

Tonya: Sorry Brian, I just walked in the door.....been out to the woods again. While you and Mark have been busy swapping Deliverance dialogue, I like Teresa, have been working for a living.

 

Mark: Tonya, I forgot that you were from North Carolina. We here in Tennessee have something called "indoor plumbing." I'm surprised no one has introduced you to it yet. There's a modern miracle called a "toilet", or "commode," that, when used properly, will put an end to your countless trips to the woods. Ask any other coworker about the "toilet" and I'm sure they will be more than glad to tell you all about it and maybe even give you a hands-on demonstration.

 

 

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