Chapter 9

“Hello?” said Jerry Seinfeld into his neon green cell phone.
“Jerry! What’s up, dude?” asked Spiderman on the other end, his voice full of life and energy.
“Spiderman! How’s it going, my main man?”
“Goin’ pretty good, goin’ pretty good! Just wanted to see what’s up witcha.”
“Oh nothing terribly interesting, just working on my new stand-up routine…”
“Cool dude, why don’t you try it out on me!”
“Oh, I don’t know, it’s still pretty crude so far. It just doesn’t quite have that certain, oh, I don’t know, that certain…je ne sais quoi.”
“Oh, c’mon, you big fag. Let’s hear it!”
“Well...” said Jerry in a slightly goofy voice, “If you insist! Ahem. Just what, is the deal, with women’s vaginas? I mean, one minute they’re slippery, the next minute they’re bleeding, the next they smell like chocolate…I mean, c’mon, are us guys really supposed to stick our penises in these things? If you ask me, I’d rather have sex with a turkey sandwich. I mean, you know it’s not gonna ask you to punch it in the face while you’re in the act, and when you’re done, you can eat it!” A brief silence followed the completion of Jerry’s bit, which was quickly broken by howls of laughter from Spiderman.
“Jerry, you are one funny motherfucker!” laughed the web demon into his Spiderman-shaped phone. “I think you’re due for a comeback with material like that. Let’s hear some more!”
“Well,” said Jerry in a slight goofy voice, “I don’t mind, if I do! Ahem. The other day I went to get some oranges at the supermarket. Now this was no ordinary supermarket; this supermarket was owned by some Asians, and I think we all know what that's like when it happens. Anyway, I was in the produce section - what’s the deal with the produce section anyway? Do we really need a whole section dedicated to produce? Ooh that’s a good one, I’ll have to write that down. Sorry, that was me breaking bit. So, back to the thing, I was feeling the oranges, trying to figure out if they were ripe, when the Asian owner runs up and starts yelling at me! Of all the things, this guy is flipping out because I’m trying to pick out the oranges that best suit my personality and mood. This guy was like, ‘You tly you buy! You tly you buy!’ Now I’m not a violent man, but I’ll tell you what, folks, something really irked me about having that chink come up and tell me how to do my shopping. So I knocked him over, held him down, ripped out a clump of my hair and able to force a few follicles into his mouth as he tried to speak. By this point the poor guy was begging for me to release him, but I wasn’t about to let that slant-eye off the hook that easily. I told him to open his mouth, to which he responded by tensing up and shaking his head back and forth, jaw clenched and lips pursed. ‘Open up your fucking mouth or I’ll open it for you,” I screamed, with what I'm sure was quite the sinister look in my eye. The store owner complied, slowly opening his face box, sobbing as he did so. I proceeded to hock, I swear to God, the biggest loogie of my life right into this Korean guy’s mouth. He started to cough and gag and cuss at me in Chinese or something, and I finally let him up. He immediately bolted towards the back of his store like some kind of short little Carl Lewis. As he ran away, I shouted out the only thing that seemed fitting: ‘YOU TLY YOU BUY! YOU TLY YOU BUY!’ ” Silence. A silence punctuated a few moments later by even more crazed laughter from Spiderman’s end.
“Jerry, you, sir, are a genius. I think you’ve really got some solid gold comedy right there!”
“Why thank you, very much,” said Jerry in a slightly goofy voice.
“Well, aaaaanyway, I basically called up to ask you if you wanted to kick it with me and the Wolvie.”
“Oh, you know I’m down,” replied Jerry Seinfeld. “Where should we meet up?”
“How about we meet up in the park, by the big fountain?”
“Sounds good, I’ll hop in my hot little Porsche and zoom on over there. See you in 15?”
“See you in 15. Yes.”