Old Methods Die Hard

Hi, my name is Hank.

ME: Absolutely not.

Ritchie just pitched his "reunion" idea to me.

ME: I'd rather have my ass shaved on live television.
RITCHIE: We can do that next month. I'm doing a special on man-scaping.
ME: Detecting sarcasm was never your strong suit, was it, Ritchie?

We were in my office, and I was hoping we could wrap up our little meeting so I could get home and begin my nightly drinking.

Ritchie already tried throwing money at me, but I do well enough. If I went on some lousy reunion show I might as well invite my students to view a sex tape of me with a blow-up doll. None of them would ever take me seriously again.

RITCHIE: Maybe I have something else I could offer you.

He shut the door to my office, and ripped off his pants.

ME: Are you kidding me?
RITCHIE: I always wear stripper pants and briefs, because you just never know.
ME: Aren't you the spokesperson for Petite Briefs?
RITCHEI: And their slogan is--'Because You Just Never Know.'
ME: I can't tell if I'm more embarrassed than you or--
RITCHIE: Why don't we have a little fun and then you can tell me if you care about your sterling reputation?
ME: What makes you think I would go for this?
RITCHIE: Because you're always the bitchiest when you haven't had sex for awhile, and judging from how much of that undetected sarcasm you've been laying on me, I'd say you're about to explode. You do the reunion, and I'll make you explode--twice.

I'd love to say I turned down his offer.

...I'd really love to say that.

All I'll say is...I'm not feeling so bitchy anymore.

And I could use a new desk.