Early yesterday, a brazen thief stole a two-headed turtle from a Brooklyn pet store. This is a dramatic reenactment:
Larry: Wow, since that newspaper article came out about us, there have been a lot more people in the pet store lately.
Rupert: I know. It’s kind of annoying.
Larry: Don’t they realize we don’t need to be petted? We have shells.
Rupert: Oh, look, what’s this? Who is that?
Larry: Eeee! That tickles. Wait — stop!
Rupert: What’s happening? Why are we being picked up! Help! HAAAAAAALP!
Larry: Dammit, the owner is flirting with some girl over here, just as we are getting turtle-napped.
Rupert: Ugh, figures. Oof! I hate it when they put us in their pockets. Your head picks up lint like the diaper of a Dumpster baby.
Larry: My head? You’re the one who can’t keep your mouth shut, Paris Hilton. How many times have I had to shit out those damn blue pebbles from our terrarium?
Rupert: Oh, shut up. Your head looks like a penis. Even more than mine! [Long silence.] Man, it’s dark in here.
Larry: I wonder where we’re going?
Rupert: Probably to Coney Island. Again.
Larry: At least there are two of us. We can use the first-person plural and make jokes to one another, even if no one is around to listen.
Rupert: I bet this is what it’s like to be a blogger.
