VERMOUTH: Long time, no see.

TOBY: Har har, I'm no stranger to verbal irony. Could you leave me alone? I'm trying to do work.

VERMOUTH: Oh, my apologies. Is it hard to be productive after drinking three cups of coffee and swallowing two pills of ephedra?

TOBY: No. I feel great.

VERMOUTH: Well then, we'll just overlook the fact that your hands are shaking so hard, you can barely type. Minor detail.

TOBY: (segwaying awkwardly) God, it's only 1 p.m. I need to get out of here! Fortunately, my lunch break is in 30 minutes.

VERMOUTH: Are you going to give your number to that cute boy at Potbelly?

TOBY: I was thinking about it. I have a boyfriend already, but I could use more gay friends.

VERMOUTH: I'm sure your boyfriend will be supportive of your thinly veiled quest to bag the hot sandwich maker.

TOBY: Fuck you, I just want to be his friend. Nice pun, by the way. 'Bag the hot sandwich maker.'

VERMOUTH: Thanks. So are we on for our usual post-dinner dalliance?

TOBY: Sure thing, boss!

VERMOUTH: You bet. Just go easy on me this time, I don't want you passing out at 11 p.m. like you did last night.

TOBY: Ah, there you go, proving once again that shame is retroactive.

VERMOUTH: It's a hard job, being both your escape from reality and your voice of reason.

TOBY: Amen to that.