#swartzwelder

[captainfreelance1]

The Simpsons S10 E13 Homer to the Max

All in The Family 1999 walked so that The New Norm could stumble.

[macla539ac]

People of Mars, you say we are brutes and savages. But let me tell you one thing: if I could get loose from this cage you have me in, I would tear you guys a new Martian asshole.

You say we are violent and barbaric, but has any one of you come up to my cage and extended his hand? Because, if he did, I would jerk it off and eat it right in front of him. "Mmm, that's good Martian," I would say.

You say your civilization is more advanced than ours. But who is really the more "civilized" one: you, standing there watching this cage, or me, with my pants down, trying to urinate on you?

You criticize our earth religions, saying they have no relevance to the way we actually live. But think about this: if I could get my hands on that god of yours, I would grab his skinny neck and choke him until his big green head exploded.

[megamindfandombookclub]

[trashyhermit]

i think about this passage from double wonderful too much.

[vegaspliffs]

[darlingbandit]

You achieve a super, super rare achievement of being such a singular type of fame that people actively wonder if you even exist. The only other person with that distinction (that I can think of) is that writer from “The Simpsons,” John Swartzwelder.

[waderockett]

One of my favorite Simpsons bits ever.

[straightmishima]

John Swartzwelder pre-invented Deleuze Iraeli scholar Shimon Naveh's IDF strategy of anti-guerrilla warfare utilizing the smooth space concept by describing "Burly maneuver" of a 60 IQ general teaching his soldiers to always walk forward in a straight line over trees, walls, etc.

[vintagegeekculture]

RIP Tracy Tormé, Creator of the "Holodeck Malfunction Episode" and Sliders

Tracy Tormé’s most enduring legacy in popular culture is that, while a writer on TNG’s tempestuous first and second seasons, he created the entire concept of the Holodeck Malfunction Episode.

Yes, even people who suggest you skip TNG’s first couple seasons say that “The Big Goodbye” is one you don’t want to miss. And there was a very nice tribute to Tracy Torme in an episode of Picard, which had him as the author and creator of Dixon Hill… which he is, and deserves credit for this.

I suppose I should mention I had a personal encounter with Tracy Tormé at a convention. The main thing I remember was that he looked absolutely terrified when someone asked him about what happened with “The Royale,” far and away TNG’s worst episode except the clip show, about the crew getting trapped on a hotel they can’t leave from a badly written book. To his great credit, he took responsibility for the episode not working and did not pass on the problems to the production crew.

The most extraordinary thing about Tracy Torme is that he had a Forrest Gump like ability to appear in the background of scifi culture’s greatest moments.

Not only was he inside the TNG writers’ room in 1987-88, he was around during the production of Terminator with James Cameron. Tormé was the one who, hearing about the production of the film, squealed on it to Harlan Ellison, telling Ellison that it was based on his old Outer Limits episodes, with a visual based on his script for “Demon With a Glass Hand.” In other words, he was the Gavrilo Princip who got that entire conflict started, where two of the most proud personalities in scifi butted heads, James Cameron vs. Ellison. Cameron, to this day, insists that the film company gave Ellison money and a credit because it was easier to pay him off than to go through litigation (which rings true, frankly, for risk averse production companies), and to this day Cameron insists, with his absolutely expected big dick swagger, that Ellison is a “parasite” who received money for nothing, and if it had been up to him, he wouldn’t have given him a dime.

It’s also worth mentioning that Torme also created the TV series Sliders.

Has anyone else noticed that Sliders is an incredibly right wing show? Seriously, watch it again if you haven’t seen it in years. If you haven’t watched this show since the 90s and you were a kid and all that went over your head, it’s kind of amazing how Limbaugh/Newt Gingrich era right-wing Sliders actually was. It made 24 look like Doonesbury. The targets of Sliders were 90s New Right satire: health care systems, infuriating hippies, the nanny state disallowing the public smoking of cigars, California weirdness, the drug culture, the USSR. Torme’s right wing views were less John Millius-style “blood alone moves the wheel of history” stuff, but more like that of a slobby regular joe in the 90s, Dennis Leary’s character in Demolition Man for instance, who mostly just wants to smoke cigars, ogle girls, and eat hamburgers without getting scolded by his wife. He was less “Passion of the Christ” and more “Animal House.”

I am not saying this as a negative, but merely a description. Contrary to popular belief, right wingers driven by bizarre sexual pathology and weird grudges produce amazing art, as Millius and John Swartzwelder show. A lot of Steven Universe fans love to say things like “all good art is about empathy and kindness” and I reject that notion. Good art can also be about reflecting things in the human experience like fear, trauma, cruelty, and paranoia.

For that reason, it doesn’t surprise me that Tracy Torme’s best movie script was a horror film about a traumatic experience, Fire in the Sky. An ominous movie about a vanished ranch hand who was the victim of alien abduction, in the earned finale the film’s tension builds toward, our hero remembers the true cause of his missing time: an abduction by aliens, who’s motives are emotionless and incomprehensible, and who subject him to horrific vivisection that we see in excruciating detail. Travis Walton is treated not with sadism or cruelty, but with icy detachment, by alien superintellects that view him as no different than cattle, and are to him as we are to cattle. The most terrifying detail of the film is that the classic “gray alien” look turns out to be spacesuits, revealing a far more frightening appearance underneath.

[mysharona1987]

Re: Frank Grimes. I still think the weirdest thing is that a libertarian wrote a TV episode where the billionaire boss is clearly to blame for everything, but instead of blaming Burns, Frank unfairly turns his rage on fellow worker Homer.

Watch the episode again. Burns is the most inept person on the show. He’s an idiot rich person. Born into wealth…then got wealthier.

He hired Homer despite Homer having no qualifications. Hires Grimes then quickly forgets he hired him in the first place. He even wants a dog as his vice president!

Burns is the problem.

Frank just can’t accept that the system is messed up, hard work might not matter at all, and then takes it out on Homer.

Which makes me think either John Swartzwelder was trolling the writing staff with the whole libertarian thing or he has a far more nuanced take on things that most realize.

[irlsimpsons]

Mt. Swartzwelder Historic Cider Mill Season Pass available as luggage tags on Etsy!

[racefortheironthrone]

There was a classic Simpsons episode where Springfield Elementary teachers went on strike, and the PTA responded by bringing in residents (including Marge Simpson) as replacement teachers. Would this count as union busting or crossing the picket line? If yes, I wonder why it was depicted as largely benevolent considering that Simpsons writers and plots tend to lean liberal.

Let's not mince words, it's 100% scabbing. It's not just crossing a picket line as a customer, it's crossing a picket line in order to work as non-union temporary labor, with the intent to crush the strike.

I don't agree that it's depicted as benevolent behavior - the whole gag of the middle portion of the episode is that the scabs are terrible fucking teachers. Frink is completely wasted in preschool and doesn't let the kids play with toys, Jasper is a physically abusive idiot who gets his beard stuck in a pencil sharpener, and Moe and the like are total pushovers when it comes to Bart's pranks. The only one who can manage a classroom at all is Marge, and even then she's incredibly embarrassing and unprofessional with Bart. (Notable difference compared to how she does in "Whacking Day.")

Also, it's not necessarily the case that Simpsons writers are always left-leaning. John Swartzwelder is notoriously incredibly conservative and his scripts tended to push his libertarian views pretty strongly.

[ptbf2002]

My Top 10 Favorite 20th Century Fox Movies (2024)

#10 Home Alone

#9 Ice Age

#8 Ice Age 2: The Meltdown

#7 Ice Age 3: Dawn Of The Dinosaurs

#6 Ice Age 4: Continental Drift

#5 The Peanuts Movie

#4 Spies In Disguise

#3 Alvin And The Chipmunks (2007)

#2 Family Guy: Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story

And #1 The Simpsons Movie

Original Template: https://www.deviantart.com/jackskellington416/art/Top-10-20th-Century-Fox-Films-Meme-665656007

Home Alone Belongs To John Hughes, Hughes Entertainment, 20th Century Studios, Inc. The Walt Disney Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, Disney Entertainment, And The Walt Disney Company

Ice Age (2002 film) Belongs to Michael Berg, Michael J. Wilson, Peter Ackerman, Blue Sky Studios, Inc. 20th Century Animation, 20th Century Studios, Inc. The Walt Disney Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, Disney Entertainment, And The Walt Disney Company

Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs Belongs to Michael Berg, Peter Ackerman, Mike Reiss, Yoni Brenner, Blue Sky Studios, Inc. 20th Century Animation, 20th Century Studios, Inc. The Walt Disney Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, Disney Entertainment, And The Walt Disney Company

Ice Age 4: Continental Drift Belongs to Michael Berg, Jason Fuchs, Blue Sky Studios, Inc. 20th Century Animation, 20th Century Studios, Inc. The Walt Disney Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, Disney Entertainment, And The Walt Disney Company

The Peanuts Movie Belongs To Charles M. Schulz, Craig Schulz, Bryan Schulz, Cornelius Uliano, United Feature Syndicate, Inc. Andrews McMeel Syndication, Blue Sky Studios, Inc. 20th Century Animation, 20th Century Studios, Inc. The Walt Disney Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, Disney Entertainment, And The Walt Disney Company

Spies In Disguise Belongs To Lucas Martell, Brad Copeland, Lloyd Taylor, Cindy Davis, Chernin Entertainment, Blue Sky Studios, Inc. 20th Century Animation, 20th Century Studios, Inc. The Walt Disney Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, Disney Entertainment, And The Walt Disney Company

Alvin And The Chipmunks (2007) Belongs To Ross Bagdasarian Sr. Jon Vitti, Will McRobb, Chris Viscardi, Bagdasarian Productions, Dune Entertainment, RatPac Entertainment, LLC, Monarchy Enterprises S.Á.R.L. Regency Entertainment (USA), Inc. FOX 2000 Pictures, 20th Century Studios, Inc. The Walt Disney Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, Disney Entertainment, And The Walt Disney Company

Family Guy: Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story Belongs To Seth MacFarlane, Gary Janetti, Chris Sheridan, Alex Borstein, Steve Callaghan, Sunwoo & Company Co., Ltd. Fuzzy Door Productions, Inc. 20th Television Animation, 20th Television, 20th Century Fox Home Entertainment, Buena Vista Home Entertainment, Inc. Walt Disney Studios Home Entertainment, Disney Platform Distribution, Inc. Disney Television Studios, Disney General Entertainment Content, Disney Entertainment, FOX Broadcasting Company, FOX Entertainment, FOX Corporation, And The Walt Disney Company

The Simpsons Movie Belongs To James L. Brooks, Matt Groening, Al Jean, Ian Maxtone-Graham, George Meyer, David Mirkin, Mike Reiss, Mike Scully, Matt Selman, John Swartzwelder, Jon Vitti, Film Roman, LLC, Rough Draft Studios, Inc. AKOM Production Ltd. Gracie Films, 20th Century Animation, 20th Century Studios, Inc. The Walt Disney Studios, Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures, Disney Entertainment, And The Walt Disney Company

[ladystormcrow]

16, 17, & 24 for the writer asks?

16. Favorite place to write

If the weather's nice, in a camping chair out on our deck (it has a nice view of the park a block away, and there's not much to distract me). Otherwise, in my favorite spot on the living room couch.

17. Talk about your writing and editing process

I've had a lifelong struggle with perfectionism and "if I can't do this exactly right, I shouldn't do it at all", which can be a serious problem when it comes to writing. Then, @les-gnossiennes-fantomatiques shared one of the most helpful pieces of writing advice I've ever come across, as given by The Simpsons writer John Swartzwelder. To sum up: write the first draft very quick and messy, and mentally distance yourself from it by imagining "it's like a crappy little elf has snuck into my office and badly done all my work for me", leaving you with just the (comparatively easier) job of re-writing and editing.

Other things I've found can be helpful are writing out the first draft longhand in a notebook (this is what I usually do when I'm writing out on the deck, and it's also helpful if I want to avoid getting distracted by doing other stuff on the computer), crossing out stuff and making notations occasionally but mostly just writing whatever flows through my mind, then using transcribing it to the computer later as part of the editing process. I also try to speak/act dialogue scenes out loud to help them sound and feel more natural (always when no one will see me, of course!).

24. How do you recharge when you’re not feeling creative?

Mostly by keeping myself busy with something else that stimulates my brain. Video games are a favorite (I'm a big fan of The Sims and citybuilders like Frostpunk and Farthest Frontier), and traveling and sightseeing when possible (Mr. Stormcrow and I live near Washington DC, so we often take day trips to museums and such).

[dorothydalmati1]

The Simpsons Season 2 Episode 3: Treehouse of Horror

Directing assistance by Jim Reardon

Bad Dream House:

Written by John Swartzwelder

Storyboard by Steven Dean Moore & Wes Archer

Directed by Wes Archer

Hungry Are the Damned:

Written by Jay Kogen & Wallace Wolodarsky

Storyboard by Rich Moore, Steven Dean Moore & Jim Reardon

Directed by Rich Moore

The Raven:

Written by Edgar Allan Poe & Sam Simon

Storyboard by Jeffrey Lynch & David Silverman

Directed by David Silverman

[jonesy-and-max]

part 4: Lunch

One o’clock finally made its appearance, which meant it was time for Jonesy & Max’s lunch break. Jonesy went to the back room and grabbed her backpack while Max ushered some straggling customers out the door. Jonesy flicked the switch on the OPEN sign off, and hung the “OUT TO LUNCH (back at 2p)” sign in the window. Directly across from Popcorn Video in the strip mall was the Super Grasso Brothers Pizzeria, Jonesy and Max’s favorite pizza place since they were kids. Not only was the pizza delicious, but there were free refills on soda, and the best part was the ancient Donkey Kong arcade that had been there since 1981. Max held the second highest score on it, behind whoever had entered the initials “STN.” The two of them had spent hours and hours eating pizza, gorging themselves on garlic knots, and taking turns racking up levels on Donkey Kong. 

Jonesy said hi to Fabrizio Grasso behind the counter, his brother Massimo must have had the day off, she figured, and asked for the usual.

“One large pie, half extra cheese, half extra pepperoni, garlic knots, and two large sodas. You know the drill, Ms. Jones.” He handed her two large cups and gestured towards the fountain. His thick italian accent had diminished a bit since she was little, but his boisterous, husky baritone never had. 

She filled one cup with Cherry Coke for Max and mixed the Orange and the Sprite together for herself. She had a seat in one of the booths next to the Donkey Kong machine and watched Max go a few rounds before the pie was ready.

Max opened the back of his van and Jonesy slid the pizza box in first, the two of them followed behind it. She had dug out her weed purse and took a nice big hit as Max grabbed slices of pizza, one pepperoni, one cheese and smooshed them on top of each other.

“Pizza-wich!” He presented it as though a work of art to Jonesy who laughed and coughed at this miraculous new invention.

“You truly are an inspired artist, Signore Swartzwelder!” She chef kissed her fingers.

For the next hour they shared pizza, and knots, and the rest of the bud Jonesy had brought, taking turns noodling on the guitar Max always had in his van.

“Hey Jonesy.” Max strummed the guitar with each syllable.

“Yeah, Max?”

“Ok, so, like,” He looked up at his thoughts, “If you could pick how you’d die. Like number one death. How would you wanna go?”

“Demon possession.”

“Fuck! …That’s good!”

“Yeah, and I’m talking hideous deadite-style. You’d have to chop me up or blow my head off with a shotgun! But before that I’m all like munchin’ on your leg or clawin’ your eyes out, or like, comin’ at you with a rusty knife! Haha!”

“That’d be so fucking metal!”

“Either that or an evil doppelganger. Like, it wants my life, but there’s just something wrong with it, you know? Like, there’s something twisted inside it. Then we’re all like, strangling each other and maybe it bashes my brains in with a rock or something. Hahaha, that’d be rad as fuck.” 

“Holy shit, that’d rule.”

“What about you?”

“Asteroid.”

“Like the dinosaurs?”

“Nah, dude. Like, ok. So like, I want there to be an asteroid heading for earth, but it burns up in the atmosphere so much that it’s just, like, the size of a bullet, then BLAMMO: killshot right to the brain. Fucking sniped from a billion years ago. The big bang itself hittin’ me with the headshot from the beginning of time!”

“Dude, that’s fucking cosmic.”

“Like, that asteroid was on a collision course with my skull since the universe was born. Destiny. I wouldn’t even be pissed, I’d be like, hell yeah.”

“Yeah man, that’s like, beautiful.”

“Either that or choked out between Kelly Bundy’s thighs.” Max plucked a wailer of a high note on his guitar and clapped the string silent.

“Oh! Nice!”

The two fist bumped twice in quick succession in perverted synchronicity.

“Excuse me!” A voice came, seemingly, out of thin air.

“Huh?” Jonesy and Max asked the disembodied voice. 

“I said, excuse me!” Jonesy and Max turned their heads in the direction of the noise. To their surprise there was a man standing right in front of them. He was a stocky, middle-aged man, bearded, bespeckled, with a fluffy brown pony tail bringing together what was left of his hair. A green trench coat ended at his ankles, and due to his choice of denim shorts, if he had closed the coat it may have given the illusion that he wasn’t wearing any pants. 

“What’s up, doc?” Asked Jonesy, holding in a massive grin.

Max buried his face in his elbow to stop from laughing.

The pony tail man wasn’t amused in the slightest. “I’m sorry, but is that pot I’m smelling?? Are you two high??”

Max looked at Jonesy from inside his elbow, her rose colored eyes matching his.

“Uh. Nope.” Jonesy desperately tried to hold in her laughter as Max nearly died.

“Sure. Whatever. I want to rent a movie and the door is locked. Judging by your uniforms, I’m going to assume you’re the clerks?” Ponytail attempted to move past the snickering and cloud of weed that hung around the two chuckleheads.

Max, trying to keep his composure, looked down at his double entendre nametag, “My name’s Haywood Jablome,” He pulled it out towards Ponytail. “...Junior.”

“Can one of you burnouts please get your shit together for five minutes and open the store. I have places to be.” Ponytail sneered.

“How come?” Jonesy asked.

“How come’ what?”

“Why are you in such a rush?”

“That’s none of your concern.” Ponytail avoided their eyes.

Max tapped Jonesy with his elbow, “He’s getting porn.”

“I am not!” Ponytail sputtered.

“Sure.”

“I have a date, if you must know.” Ponytail composed himself.

“No you don’t.” Jonesy chuckled.

“Yes I do!”

“With who?”

“Is it your mom?” asked Max.

“Are you getting porn for your mom?” Jonesy laughed, scrunching up her nose, “Ew, sick!”

“Is she too old to get it herself? What does she like?” Max leaned forward, intrigued.

“They didn’t have porn on tapes a hundred years ago, so she’s probably just like, sampling it all, right?” Jonesy offered.

“You are both disgusting!” Ponytail was red in the face now.

“We’re only messin’ with ya, dude.” Max decided to let the fish off the hook and finally help Ponytail out.

He shuffled his butt to the edge of the van and hopped out, grabbing his soda to take along for the trip. All of a sudden, Ponytail’s hand was moving. It was moving quite fast in Max’s direction. Jonesy saw what was happening, but her brain and her thoughts couldn’t drag themselves together fast enough to understand the gravity of it all. Jonesy’s mouth fell open, intending to warn Max, but all she succeeded in doing was letting out a long “Uuuuuuuuuuuuuh…” By the time her brain had worked itself up enough to make the M sound in “Max” it was already too late. Ponytail had slapped Max’s soda right out of his grip. The cup crashed to the ground, its contents splashing against Max’s jeans and all over his right shoe. He looked down, then back up, meeting Ponytail’s gaze. He was smirking, but as soon as Ponytail’s eyes locked with Max’s the smirk vanished. Max snarled.

“What the fuck!” Max barked. Jonesy could see her pal shift into feral mode. He hunched, balled his fists and planted his feet. “I was gonna open the store for you, asshole!”

“Fuck you! I’ll be speaking to your supervisor about this!” Ponytail backed away and started to run.

Max was about to give chase when he noticed he wasn’t moving, Jonesy was holding him back. “Don’t! Don’t dude, he’s not worth it.”

Max looked at Jonesy and back at Ponytail scrambling into his car. He spit on the ground and flipped the man off. “You’re fucking banned, shitbag! Good luck finding another place to rent your mom’s porn!”

“Fuck you!” Ponytail wailed.

“Eat shit!” Jonesy fired back, chucking her soda at him. The cup splattered all over his rear windshield as he peeled out of the parking lot, swerving and narrowly missing an oncoming car.

Max turned to Jonesy, “Can you believe that fucker?”

“Who the fuck was that guy?” Jonesy adjusted her hat and hopped back in the van, laughing to herself.

“I was gonna drink that.” Max sulked and ate a garlic knot.

Jonesy crawled over to Max and pet his head, “Awww, Max! No be cry! Today is Chain-Slaughter day!” She gave him a big hug from behind and bit his ear, “Don’t let that chucklefuck get to you!”

“You shoulda let me bash him up,” Max swatted at Jonesy, “That would’ve made me feel better. Now I’ve got itchy static in my brain!”

Jonesy laid back in the van and sighed. Normally she was the one who was bent out of shape and Max was always there to bring her out of a funk. She hated when she couldn’t do the same for him. Her brain had been baked thoroughly at this point, but she muscled through the fog, through the seductive dopamine being released, until she arrived at the answer. The one thing she knew that could help Max. He just needed somewhere to release all that tasmanian devil energy that was gumming up the works.

She sat up and grabbed the boombox from Max’s van. She rummaged with determination through her backpack until she found exactly what she was looking for: Gang Green’s Another Wasted Night. She set the boombox down in front of the video store and turned it all the way up. “Haunted House” began its opening riff and Jonesy let loose, dancing and skanking by herself with abandon.

“Hey Max!” She motioned for him to join her. 

He couldn’t help himself, he smiled, “Yeah Jonesy!” and joined her.

The two danced and crashed into each other, as “Haunted House” faded into the title track, blasting throughout the strip mall parking lot. By the time “Skate to Hell” started playing, Jonesy could see her plan had worked, Max was singing and bouncing around, spinning and kicking and releasing all that unfocused rage. She smiled to herself and jumped onto her pal’s back, hugging him. The end of “Skate to Hell” brought them to Gang Green’s cover of “Voices Carry,” slowing the duo down, Jonesy and Max joined Chris Doherty’s charmingly off-key vocals. The two created a romantic pantomime as the song drowned out the world around them. The instinct to destroy (that guy’s face and property in particular) drained from Max completely, having converted into the primal joy of moshing with your best friend.

As the final cord of “L.D.S.B.” rang out into the dwindling friday afternoon, a punctuated “BWOOP” brought Jonesy and Max’s attention back to reality. A Lake’s End squad car had pulled up next to the van, directly in front of them. Max snarled, Jonesy crossed her arms and spit on the ground in front of her.

“Howdy hey!” A young officer in a clean and crisp, blue uniform emerged from the black and white. He had neat brown hair with blond highlights parted to the side, his toothy smile and apple cheeks shaped his blue eyes into crescent moons. He smoothed his lovingly tended mustache and hiked his belt as he made his way over to the video store.

Jonesy rolled her eyes and leaned back against the store, “Hey Stewie.”

“Fuck off, Stewie!” Max growled.

“What’cha guys up to? Ooh! Dance party?” Officer Stewart Mooney asked with genuine excitement. “I’m particular to the Lawnmower!”

Jonesy and Max stared blankly at Officer Mooney as they watched a grown man humiliate himself.

“The Sprinkler’s pretty great, too!” He demonstrated. “But that’s neither here nor there.” He chuckled, entertaining himself.

“What do you want, Stewie?” Jonesy almost rolled her eyes out of her skull, “We weren’t doing anything. Just playing music before our break ends.”

“Golly, Jonesy, that’s no problem!” Officer Mooney furrowed his brow, looking at his shoes and back to Jonesy. “It’s just that, unfortunately, we got a complaint about…” He raised a finger asking for a moment and pulled out his notepad, reading from it, “A pair of rude thugs loitering in front of the video store…” Jonesy and Max smiled and nodded at each other, fist bumping twice in quick succession.

Officer Mooney continued, “...harassing respectful and handsome potential patrons.” He looked up at them with his guileless baby blues. “Possibly out of jealousy.”

Max scoffed, “That’s bullshit! Come on Stewie, you know us. You know that’s a load of crap!”

“Well, Max, I mean, I know you guys are a couple of sweet little sugar cookies. All buttery and comforting, warm, like a Sunday morning in June.” 

“Okay, well, no that’s…stop saying stuff like that.” Max made sure no one was around to hear this. “We’re more like, nachos. Or maybe like, pickles…?

“What are you doing?” Jonesy interrupted.

“I don’t know!”

Mooney continued, ignoring them, “Just, crunchy exteriors. Hiding a soft, whipped, nougaty inside. Best friends. Just two lovely, sweet-”

“Yeah, okay!” Max cut him off. “Look, dude, that guy was starting shit with us, he slapped my soda out of my hand. Before that happened I was just about to let him into the store and everything.”

“Well, dang, that’s rude!” Mooney frowned, “Are you alright?” He took Max’s hand.

Max quickly took his hand back, “Hey, come on…”

Jonesy snickered at the bristling Max, “Stewie, is there something you need us to do, or whatever?”

“Nah! No worries. I just love an excuse to hang out with my oldest and best pals.” Mooney beamed.

“Is that how you see this?” Max asked delicately, raising an eyebrow.

“See what?” Mooney could not be phased.

The three just sat in thick silence for what felt like the rest of eternity, glancing at each other.

“Well!” Jonesy finally broke them all free from the conversational stand-off, “Looks like our break is just about over. We better get back to work and all…”

“Fiddlesticks! We were just starting to have some fun, too. Oh well!” Mooney was genuinely bummed their time together was ending. “Hey! You guys gonna be at the theater tonight?? I mean, it’s opening day of Chain-Slaughter 6, so I know that’s a goofy question to ask, but I just figured-”

“Yup, we are.” Max desperately searched for the store key in his pockets, desperate for an escape.

“I was thinking about catching that one myself! Now do I have to see the other five to understand what’s happening in this one, do you think?” Mooney began following them.

“I mean, it probably would improve your viewing experience…” Jonesy elbowed Max, whispering, “Come on, man.” 

Mooney chuckled, “You’re right, you’re probably right! You two are the experts! You know I’ve never been a big fan of scary movies. All that blood and killing. It’s a little ghoulish, don’t you think?”

“Stewie, we gotta get going, dude. Sorry! Store and all, you know.” Jonesy desperately tried to untether them from this conversation.

Mooney finally realized he had been following them into the store, “Golly! Sorry, guys! I’ll let you get back to it,” He turned to leave, but stopped in his tracks and spun back around, “I almost forgot, do you guys have Free Willy 2 in stock, by any chance? I gotta see what kinda mischief that big ol’ fish has gotten himself into this time!”