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[riskanalyst]

Hey, you've reached Eddie. Leave a message.

Comments

[longoverdue]

Yeah, that. I accidentally gave some poor alien fuck who’d never even seen a clown before coulrophobia.

[He is disturbingly casual about this now. There’s a quiet snicker, like Eddie’s just said something he finds funny.]

No, but if you slicked your hair back and came with a microphone you could say you’re John Mulaney. [A pause.] Actually, forget I said that. I’m going as John Mulaney, there can’t be two.

[riskanalyst]

I guess in your defense, it's not an entirely irrational fear to have.

[ Wrinkling his nose, Eddie looks confused. He's not really a stand-up comedian kind of guy. The only special he ever watched was Richie's and, at the time, he didn't even really know why he wanted to watch that one. ]

The fuck is John Mulaney? I'll figure something out.

[longoverdue]

Another guy in stand-up, used to work for SNL, looks kinda like he walked out of a movie from the fifties. The Internet fucking loves him now?

[Yeah, Richie’s as confused as anyone over the Internet’s sudden adoration of John fucking Mulaney. Like. Him? Really?]

Yeah, who knows if the clown at your birthday party won’t suddenly try to kill and eat everyone, right.

[riskanalyst]

I'll take your word for it. I never heard of him.

[ God... Too soon, Trashmouth. Eddie's still got phantom pain in his chest and stomach every once in a while. ]

Beep beep, Richie.