Scene: Guttermouth and Fathermouth are drinking coffee. It is early morning. The power is out and both are sitting in the kitchen in coats. Guttermouth has just spent an hour retrieving a runaway cow and is very tired and surly. Spend no less than $10M on this establishing shot.
Guttermouth: (showing Fathermouth video on phone) Trudeau has really backed himself into a corner. I bet he’s pleading to Klaus Schwab for help.
Fathermouth: I don’t know who that is.
Guttermouth: He’s the head of the WEF. Trudeau was one of the 1,111 Young Global Leaders.
Fathermouth: What’s that, some kind of Qanon conspiracy thing? (Fathermouth does not really understand what Qanon is despite Guttermouth’s repeated disavowals of it)
Guttermouth: *sigh* Nope. Read this.
Fathermouth: HOLY SHIT WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS JAMES BOND VILLAIN SHIT
Fathermouth: WHEN PEOPLE DO THINGS IN WEIRD NUMBERS IT’S WEIRD OCCULT SHIT THAT LOONIES DO
Fathermouth: HOLY SHIT
(I wanted to throw this up this morning but we had a massive windstorm here that led to power lines knocking our internet out until the afternoon and one of our cows getting out; after unfucking that particular situation I ended up feeling shitty and sleeping through the afternoon, which always makes me depressed and foggy. Real article on its way.)
“Fathermouth: I don’t know who that is.”
How I envy your dear father.
Doin lots of wrangling of wild acting beasts lately. At least they are now both safely tucked into the barn.
Enjoy your dad.
Don't sneak any reds. You may end up thinking the hoofed thing in the barn is QANON.
Lock the damn gate Guttermouth.