Thor's Day Thing, 10/6/22

Fathermouth: “You look upset, honey.”

Guttermouth: “It’s a torn ACL. I have to have replacement surgery.”

Fathermouth: “You have to?”

Guttermouth: “If I want to fight again. Or play sports or dance.”

Fathermouth: “You have to. You have too much life to live, still.”

Guttermouth: “They pull the whole thing out. You can’t fix it. They remove it and replace it with cadaver tissue.”

Fathermouth: “With what?”

Guttermouth: “From a dead guy. Or girl.”

Fathermouth: “Thank the gods for dead guys.”

Guttermouth: “And I have rehab for nine months, he says.”

Fathermouth: “It’s a lot of pain. Will you need help for a while?”

Guttermouth: “Probably not.”

Fathermouth: “Don’t worry about money.”

Guttermouth: “Don’t say that until I get the bill. It’s probably going to really suck.”

Fathermouth: “You fucking saved my life. I’ve got seniority.”

Guttermouth: “Thanks.”

Fathermouth: “Is that why you’re smoking?”

Guttermouth: “You want one? I pick it up whenever I get depressed.”

Fathermouth: “No. If you give me one, you might as well give me two packs. Or vicodin or whiskey.”

Guttermouth: “It’s never hard for me to quit. I’ll throw out whatever’s left over tomorrow. I do this maybe once or twice a year when something bad happens.”

Fathermouth: “I’d go out of my mind.”

Guttermouth: “Nah.”

Fathermouth: “Of mice and men.”