jennings rampage

Well, sure, why not, it’s my fault.

Here’s a conversation I’ll have with my brother tonight, probably.

Scott: That piece of shit car is taking up space in my driveway again.
Jeff: (instantly agitated) What the fuck did you do?
Scott: (also instantly agitated) I didn’t do a fucking thing! It’s a piece of shit!
Jeff: Did you check the [some car word]?
Scott: What the fuck is that?
Jeff: You’re such a fucking moron!
Scott: Fuck you!
Jeff: Fuck you!
Scott: I just poured $225 into this car last week, and it’s already doing the same thing again!
Jeff: What the fuck did you do that for?
Scott: I had to make it run, bitch! I need a fucking car!
Jeff: (scoffing) You got ripped, dude.
Scott: Yeah, no shit I got ripped, I got ripped when I bought this piece of shit car!
Jeff: Dude, [what's his face] drove that car for months with no problems. (muffled, to someone else in the room) Hey, didn’t [what's his face] drive that car just fine? (to me) Yeah man, I don’t know what the fuck you did.
Scott: Fuck you!
Jeff: Fuck you!
Scott: Piece of shit.
Jeff: Fuck you! You’re a piece of shit!
Scott: Can you come down here with [what's his face] and look at it?
Jeff: Fuck no! Just look at the [some other car word], it’s got to be that. (sighs) You’re such a fucking retard.
Scott: Whatever, dude. I’ll just take it back to the garage next week, ’cause you’re a piece of shit.
Jeff: Fine, do whatever you want, Christ, just stop yelling at me.
Scott: Ok, I gotta go.
Jeff: Good, Jesus, don’t call me again, you’re an idiot.
Scott: Love you.
Jeff: Love you too.