"Uh, hi, it's me uh James I wanna have- I'm throwin' a Tom Schar- uhhm, ahh Best Show uhhhhh--party! Yeah, it's a party! Heh he' ihheh, and it's gonna be so funny, b'cus I'm gonna like,.. call the show and then you can.. y'know call the show too and we can all, like, say stuff on the air and stuff,... stuff like 'cuz you got Jamesd?' and, like, 'Jamesathon' and it's a party. Come over, ok"
!Click
Two and a half hours go by. James' doorbell rings. "Oh hey Barry, you missed the first 13 minutes, but it's okay cuz he was only playing music or whatever, who cares right? Hcchhhchh"
"Yeah. Hm. Uhh... Do you have any beer?" asks Barry.
"No, I don't like beer. Is Tera coming over? Tera's cool"
"I.... don't know."
Barry points to the orange crates and asks if that's where they were really going to sit. James guffaws. They sit down on the orange crates. James rubs his head, secretly adjusting his toupee at the same time.
Suddenly, it seems James is talking to himself. "Jamesjamesjamesjamesjamesjeamsjmsshameshameshameshameshameshame..james"
"Dude what are you doing?" Barry's lip had curled.
"Oh, I thought you knew I was talking on my blue tooth."
"What?"
"My blue tooth. I just called the show, duh."
"Oh, right."
There is silence for about fifteen awkward seconds. Then all of a sudden, James' blue tooth flies back away from his head, and Tom Scharpling's brass-knuckled fist emerges from it punching James squarely in the face.
[the end?]
