“I swear to god she’s going to live forever.”
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“Sure it’s a good thing, but it would be better if I didn’t have to waste my weekends taking care of her. It’s not like I don’t have my own problems to deal with.”
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“Well who else would do it? She has no friends, she is too selfish for friends.”
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“No I won’t. If I ever get like that I need to drop dead.
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“Of course I’m upset. Didn’t I tell you about the cat?”
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“It had a tumor the size of a soccer ball on its belly. But in order to operate the doctor said it needed to gain some weight. So I had to go over to her house 5 times a day and feed it this special formula.”
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“No, she said it was going to drop dead anyway so why should she bother feeding it.”
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“Well, I fed it all day Saturday and 4 times on Sunday. But when I went over last night for the final dose…it was dead.”
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“The opposite. She actually broke down and began to wail about her poor cat and how could god take him from her. I’ll tell you who god needs to take…”
Me and Mr. Jones 