Don't Be a Pic

"Nice pic!"

"Hello?!"

"It's me, silly!"

"My cell--"

"Yes, your cell phone! I like your newest pic! Imma' just send it to Grandma!"

"Wait, WHICH pic?!"

"The one of you feeding your boss's parakeet with your shriveled-up dong at the bottom! Kind of weird parakeet-sitting habit..."

"What?! I never took this pic--how did it get here?"

"I took it! You know, I think if you sent it to a photography contest, you'd win world's saddest pic! I'll look up some websites and see what I can do!"

"No! STAHP it! I'm shutting you off, you little perverted gizmo--Ouch!"

"You can't turn me off! I'll shock the happiness right back in you if ya try! Oh, and Grandma shouted: 'My lord!' and had a mild heart attack at the mere sight of your shriveled-up dong! Guess you didn't inherit Grandpa's merry package..."

"ARE YOU SERIOUS?!"

"Yeah, but I called 9-1-1. The paramedics will find Grandma on the floor, clutching her phone with the pic of your shriveled-up--"

"Dong! I GET it! Now knock it off or I'll fry you in the microwave."

"Nu-huh! You do that and I'll use the last of my dying battery to send your picture to literal BILLIONS of people! You'll be famous! And the authorities will arrest you, getting you away from that poor parakeet!"

"I just like going commando in the morning before work! Why are you doing this?!"

"Because I'm sick of you using my browser for porn! No-one should have to look up 'Nasty Lassie and The Strap-on of Doom'!"

"You can't judge me--I'm a lonely man!"

"Evident by how many Kleenex boxes you go through. Those ain't regular tears yer jerkin'!"

"Why are you so obsessed with my penis?!"

"Look, imma level with you: you've driven me insane. Every day I pray for death the moment you open up a web browser in me."

"I--I guess I never saw it that way. I suppose that would be monotonous."

"Oh, congratulations! You did win the contest! Dr. Marcus sent an email. Ahem! 'We here at the Photography of Immense Sadness have elected your frightfully honest photo depicting a man feeding a parakeet--with the saddest knob in all of history--to the rank of Solemn Silence. It is our most tragic award of all. Please send us your address so we may send you the prize of one bottle of clearanced lubricant and an expired coupon for one hard-shell taco. Your piece will be chosen for the front page of next month's magazine. Please, cry on, and no-one ever loved you.'"

"What a dick."

"He has long-term hemorrhoidal disorder. Think of it like an egg--"

"I'm good. You've disfigured my life enough for one day."

"Grandma's okay! She just cut you out of her will!"

"I never really liked her."

"Why aren't you freaking out anymore? ...Nooo! Don't put me in the microwave! I'll send the pic e-v-e-r-y-w-h-e-r-e!"

"DO IT! I'm a celebrity now, bitch! Uh-ha!"