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Reunionizing
M.: You see her?
S.: No. I don't think she's come in yet.
M.: Did you see G.? Man.
S.: Yeah, he looked like he packed on twenty in twenty. You see his wife, though?
M.: She was...nice.
S.: Yeah. That's what we say about the ugly ones.
M.: Ha! Member what we used to call the ugly ones?
S.: No.
M.: You don't?
S.: No.
M.: We called them dustbunnies.
S.: I never called a girl a dustbunny.
M.: You made it up!
S.: No, I'd remember that.
M.: It was in eleventh grade. We called the freshmen goobers then.
S.: I don't remember that either.
M.: I swear --
S.: Wait, there she is.
M.: Yeah? Where?
S.: Over there. She's alone. Dude, she's alone.
M.: How's a girl like that end up alone twenty years after high school?
S.: Maybe she's smart.
M.: Man, she still looks great.
S.: I always loved the way she walked.
M.: I always loved those tiny tops and no bras.
S.: Yeah, but there was more to her than that, man. You're such a scumbag.
M.: Dude, she was hot.
S.: Yeah, but she carried herself.
M.: I would carried those for her any --
S.: Dude. Lay off, man.
M.:
S.: I'm gonna go talk to her.
M.: Nuh-uh.
S.: Yeah. Here, hold my drink.
M.: You're nuts.
S.: Hi, T. Long time.
T.: Oh my God, you're the little dork from my art class!
S.: Yeah. That was me. You can see, though, I'm all grown up now. (winks)
T.: ... Right. Okay. Well...good to see you.
M.: Geez, man. You struck out.
S.: Whatever.
M.: You did. She still thinks you're a creep.
S.: Dude, I talked to her.
M.: Lame-o.
S.: Kill me now.
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