INTRO
JAKE: You're watching a buff dude and Amir.
AMIR: (laughs, gets punched by Jake) Ow!
JAKE: (takes off his shirt to reveal a muscle tee)
AMIR: Woah, cool tank top.
JAKE: Woah, cool wrong word for it.
AMIR: What?
JAKE: It's called a muscle tee, asswad.
AMIR: Why?
JAKE: Actually, scratch that. It's called six months of pumping iron for this one moment.
AMIR: Do you think that's a normal thing to wear around the office?
JAKE: You think I'm not going to go to the park during lunch? I don't commit to wearing something that makes me feel vulnerable without having an airtight excuse for every line of questioning. Does that make me insecure? You bet your ass it does.
AMIR: Just wear a T-Shirt, then, okay? You'll look normal and you won't be as angry.
JAKE: GQ Teen says the summer look is Toms shoes, Ray Bans, board shorts, and a muscle tee. Or was that Joseph Gordon-Levitt doppelganger that I saw at the Starbucks on 9th Avenue not styling?
AMIR: Doppelganger?
JAKE: Wasn't one hundred percent sure it was the 3rd Rock from the Sun star and upon asking for his autograph, I found out it was not. Still snagged this sweet pic though. (shows Amir picture on his phone)
AMIR: He looks pissed at you.
JAKE: He was!
AMIR: So why follow his fashion advice?
JAKE: Because a sleeveless shirt for this piece of dirt makes that sweet pussy go squirt. (makes milk come out of his mouth)
AMIR: How?
JAKE: I 69'd my dad! At a rave!
AMIR: What?
JAKE: I was obviously joking, the point is that I attend raves! And while I've never done anything more than kiss a bouncer on the cheek to get in and then be sold fake ecstasy by a sweaty teen, still cooler than your last Tuesday.
AMIR: I guess-
JAKE: -(mocking) I guess? Do you guess? Do you guess? (yelling) I shared a fucking glowing pacifier, dude, with a legit five-and-a-half. That's two points hotter than my last girlfriend.
AMIR: What?
JAKE: (does McDonald's jingle) Da da da dada I'm loving snatch!
AMIR: That actually is a cool look.
JAKE: No shlit, dude.
AMIR: (rips the sleeves of his shirt off)
JAKE: No, no! Hey don't you-
AMIR: I'm going sleeveless! Yeah! A dank tank for this man stank make the poonani smell rank!
JAKE: That's not a tank! Bad rhyme, doesn't count!
PAT: (walks over, wearing a muscle tee) Woah, woah, hey hey! Look guys, guys: tank top triplets!
JAKE: Get him outta here!
AMIR: Get outta here, man!
JAKE: Get him outta here!
AMIR: (points to Jake) He 69'ed his dad!
JAKE: At a rave! Tell him where is was!
AMIR: It was a rave, yeah.
PAT: Why?