Mrs. Garrett: More poached salmon, dear?

Garrett: MMMM! Yes. INDEED! Dearest Muffin, this is your finest supper yet! The salmon is enough to make even the hardiest Hamptonite blush with envy. Don’t you agree, brother?

Judd: Indeed I do. A finer eating there cannot be! What’s your secret, Muffin? Tell me! Darla will never forgive if I don’t ply you with Riesling and get some answers out of you!

Mrs. Garrett: Oh, Judd! You little scamp. Just tell your lovely wife that the secret ingredient… is DILL.

Garrett: Dill!

Judd: Dill!

Garrett: A marvelous pairing for a fine eating!

Judd: Ha ha ha!

Garrett: Ha ha ha!

Judd: Ha ha ha!

Garrett: Ha ha ha!

(Mrs. Garrett’s phone buzzes)

Mrs. Garrett: Oh. Oh, I seem to have a text message.

Garrett: Go ahead and answer it, darling. Judd and I shall retire to the parlor for port and cigars. And perhaps… SECRET FOOTBALL TALK.

Mrs. Garrett: Very well, my red stallion.

(picture message flies open)

Mrs. Garrett: Hmm. That’s odd. Dearie, what do you make of this?

Garrett: Hmm. A sort of crude grinning face. Not unlike the greedy troglodytes I see lining up at JerryWorld for fried pork fritters. Probably a wrong number, sent to you in a hasty fashion.

(Mrs. Garrett’s phone buzzes again)

Mrs. Garrett: Oh my. There’s another one.

Garrett: Cursed juvenile! Open it and text them back to stop. I have a right mind to compose your response myself!

Mrs. Garrett: I can do it, sweetheart. You and Judd go talk business…

(opens up Lemon Party jpg)

Mrs. Garrett: GAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

Garrett: MUFFIN! WHAT’S GOING ON?!!

(message board flies open)

chanchan

5CHAN: LULZ U SOUR BRO?

MyKidNeedsJeansFromTheSanduskySection: She open it?

5CHAN: All hur muffinz are belong to 5CHAN.

(back at the Garretts)

Garrett: Judd, fetch the saline nose drops! Muffin? Muffin, dear? Are you all right?

Mrs. Garrett: Oh, my beloved husband! Oh, it was terrible! There were men and then there were other men and they were all in various states of undress and they were participating in WICKEDNESS. It was all so very… PENNSYLVANIAN.

Garrett: Oh, my love. My dear love. Put it out of your mind. I’ll catch this scoundrel.

(Mrs. Garrett’s phone buzzes again)

Mrs. Garrett: No! Not another one!

Garrett: THE FIEND! Best neither of us open it. If only there were someone nearby whose sensibilities were so blunt, whose character was so guttural, that he could gaze upon these images for clues as to the ruffian responsible! But where would I find such a man?

(door flies open)

Wolfman Rob: OWOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

Garrett: I told you to NEVER call upon me at home!

Wolfman Rob: (drunk) Did you guys know that you live not two miles away from one of the BEST strip clubs in this whole fucking city? Actually, it’s not so much a club as it is an open-air camper on the side of the highway. Three dollar beers and ALL BOTTOMLESS. One of the gals there opened every Corona I ordered with her twat. Now THAT is the kind of shit you can’t coach!

Mrs. Garrett: Have him take off his flip flops before he enters the foyer!

Wolfman Rob: Mrs. G! You look lovely tonight. That sweater dress you’re wearing, did you buy it secondhand? Because I swear to God, I nailed a girl who wore that EXACT same dress. Czech League. 1982. Girl had an ENORMOUS bush. Matter of fact, when she pulled the dress up, I thought it was still on her.

Garrett: What do you want?! We’re experiencing a crisis!

Wolfman Rob: I was just nearby! Seemed like a good idea! You know, CHEMISTRY. Thought you and I could grow to get along like weed and boners do.

Garrett: Well, I’m not interested in your…

(Mrs. Garrett’s phone buzzes again)

Mrs. Garrett: Oh God! He won’t stop tormenting me!

(goes to throw phone in the trash)

Garrett: Wait a moment, dear! I do believe that Lady Serendipity has paid us a visit.

Wolfman Rob: She has? I just saw her at the club ten minutes ago. Chocolate woman. Fine as hell.

Garrett: Idiot. Say Robert, would you be kind enough to help fix Muffin’s wireless device?

Wolfman Rob: What’s wrong with it?

Garrett: Open the obscene picture messages and tell me if there’s anything about them you can identify.

Wolfman Rob: Well, all right.

(opens phone)

Wolfman Rob: Oh, WOW. God damn!

Garrett: What is it? Do you see something you recognize?

Wolfman Rob: Can’t say I’ve seen this one before. You got a woman tossing a donkey’s salad, while the donkey is eating out a 12-year-old boy, while the boy is sucking off a dog, while the dog is shitting on the first lady’s foot! That is somethin’. Kind of a daisy chain with animals and shitting. Really, really impressive stuff. Kinda hot. Reminds me of a five-way I had in a pet store back in the South African League. Where did you get this? Can you forward this to me?

Garrett: NO!

Wolfman Rob: Can I borrow this phone and go whack off in the can with it?

Garrett: NO!

Wolfman Rob: Just askin’. Geez.

Garrett: What are the other photos?

Wolfman Rob: Well, the first one is your standard lemon party, which is just fucking gross. And the other one… WELL HOWDY DO.

Garrett: What? What? WHAT’S IN THE PICTURE?!

(door flies open)

Jerry: YEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEHAW! Did you see what my boy DEMARCO did to those Seattle faggots?! The Double J finds hisself another diamond in the rough! SMOKING DRAFT GUNS! I just wanna find a seal a beat it to DEATH, I’m so excited!

Garrett: Good evening, Jerry.

Jerry: What’s Fat Roadie doing here? I thought you said the only way you’d ever let him in your house was if your dog needed companionship!

Wolfman Rob: I was just leavin’ actually. Evenin’ to y’all.

Jerry: What you got on that phone there?

Wolfman Rob: This? Aw, shit. This old thing is malfunctioning! Told Mrs. G I’d take over to the Banana Store, or whatever you call that place where college homos sell you computers.

Garrett: I’m afraid my wife’s phone security has been compromised. Some disgusting man has been sending her the most vile, degrading…

Wolfman Rob: SHHHHH!!!!!

Garrett: No, I will not be quiet. Mr. Jones deserves to know about these horrible pic…

Wolfman Rob: Ixnay on the icturespay, amigo.

Jerry: What are you two jackasses going on about? Let me see that phone.

Wolfman Rob: I can’t do that, sir. It has disturbing, vile, AWESOME images on it that YOU CANNOT SEE.

Jerry: I wanna see it!

Wolfman Rob: You don’t! I know it sounds amusing in a kind of car-crash way, like hiring Barry Switzer to coach your team, but trust me: YOU DON’T WANT TO SEE IT.

Jerry: I’ll be the goddamn judge of what the Double J can see and what he can’t. I’M THE LEAD DOG ON THIS RANCH. Now hand it over.

Wolfman Rob: Fine.

(hands Jerry the phone)

Jerry: Well, let’s see now… oh my goodness gracious. HOO WEE! This is somethin’. Some oiled up guy in rhinestone boots has a gal on her hands and knees with a plunger handle stickin’ right out of her ass! Now that is HOT! God damn! You know, this little honeybelle looks just like a gal I know.

Wolfman Rob: Yes, well…

Jerry: Come to think of it, that office they’re in looks awful familiar too.

Wolfman Rob: This is why…

Jerry: Wait a second! THOSE ARE MAH BOOTS! That’s me! And Susan Skaggs! SOMEONE LEAKED OUR PLUNGER PARTY PICTURES!!!!!! SON OF A CUNT!!!! I only sent that to fifty of my closest drinking buddies!

Mrs. Garrett: (faints)

Garrett: Perhaps we should all retire for the evening, no? Muffin has had quite an ordeal.

Wolfman Rob: Of course. I’ll get this phone erased for you.

Jerry: The hell you will. That picture is MY POPPITY! Brings back great memories. Now hand it over. I gotta use the can.

Wolfman Rob: I had it first!

Jerry: You’re not gonna jerk off to my sex pictures!

Wolfman Rob: WHY NOT? MANGINI LET ME! YOU PEOPLE ARE TIGHTASSES.

Garrett: I’ll never draw up a decent 3-yard pass to Witten with these simpletons in my midst.

Jerry: YEEEEHAWWWWW LOOK AT OL’ JERRY FIXIN’ HIS LADY’S PLUMBIN’! NOW THAT’S WHAT WE CALL A TEXAS DRY SOCKET! YEEEEEHAWWW GODDAMN I AM FUCKIN’ CRAZY!