Dante: What are you writing over there anyway? Your memoirs?
Randal: I'm battlin' this jackass on his blog's message board.
Dante: About what?
Randal: About how he's got too much free time and no life.
Dante: Says the guy who's flaming him on his website.
Randal: I can't help it, the guy pisses me off. It's this **** in a wheelchair that's always preying on everyone's sympathies, writing these long diatribes about how "he'll never walk again" and how "walkers should appreciate the blessings of their functioning legs."
Dante: That diatribe as you call it sounds like some poor cripple guy pouring out his heart and feelings.
Randal: Oh, **** him, man! Trying to guilt me into walkin' around more because he's all gimped out. What kind of mind-**** is that shit? So I've been getting into it with him, throwin' it back in his stupid crippy boy face about how I love to just sit around and how I'd rather drive to the end of the block than walk.
Dante: The guy's in a wheelchair!
Randal: Yeah, that's why I called him "crippy boy."
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