What? No, that's not my hooker! That's ridiculous! I didn't . . . no! She's not even my type! What? No, I don't have a specific type of hooker I visit! I don't even visit hookers! I was speaking of her as a woman, not a hooker! No, I'm not saying she's my woman! Now you're just putting words in my mouth! This conversation is done! Done, I tell you!
What? No, that's not my used condom, officer! Why would I leave a used condom in the park? I'm not even with a woman right now! Do you think I was using it by myself or something? A hooker? Oh for crap's sake! Why would I meet a hooker at the park? Am I bringing her a picnic lunch? Is that part of the fee? Oh, seriously now. You're gonna bring me to the station? Fine. Fine. Bring me in and write me a ticket for an imaginary hooker. Great. This will be a fun day in court. Delightful testimony. It'll make the judge's day. Wonderful.
What? No I didn't steal your Bennigan's leftovers! I don't even like Bennigan's! I ate there once, and you know what happened? I threw up all over a kitten! You hear that? I ate the food, I got home, and I threw up all over the new kitten I had just purchased. Unbelievable, that damn Bennigan's food. I had to return the kitten. Yup, took it back. Right back to the store. Damn Bennigan's.
What? No I didn't fart! You're sick! You can't tell it's me! It wasn't me! It was discreet! And it still wasn't me, I just have good hearing! It was nearly silent! You're faking it! You're pretending to notice it! You probably didn't even know I farted! You're probably one of those people who just randomly goes around accusing people of farting, for your own enjoyment! Shame on you! Shame on you!
What? No, I've never owned a signed nude photograph of Ted Danson! That's not mine! Someone put it in my room to ruin me! It was Miguel the gardener! I know we don't have a gardener, that's why I said the gardener instead of my gardener! I don't even like Cheers! Miguel's the one who likes that show! He keeps sending me VHS tapes he made of his favorite Cheers shows! He's trying to convert me to bisexuality with a slow barrage of Danson! Don't just stand there! Call the police!
What? Yeah, I pee in your yard when I get drunk.
What? No, I don't have an extra couch! What the hell kind of question is that? Even if I did have a couch, I wouldn't give it to some douchebag like you, who goes around asking people for couches. Tell me where your mother lives so I can slap her in the mouth for bearing children. Honestly! Have some tact! Ask me about my day first, then segue into asking about the couch. What? No, I don't have a goddamn extra couch! What are you smoking?!? Can I buy some? How much is it?
