"Well, if this work is anything like all of the other work you give me, I look forward to ... not ... This work, when you give it to me, will be just like all the other ... things you ... assign, that ... Dammit. What I'm trying to say is 'something something, I never do the work you tell me to do, something something, and I won't do this work either,' but like in a clever way. And then I'd think of some stupid pun based on your name, I don't know. I can't think of anything right now, I'm off my game, I think I stapled a Kit Kat to my uvula."
"Great, fine, then I'll do the talking. Dan: I want you to go to Comikaze."
"What? Kamikaze? Are you trying to kill me by ... getting me to kill myself? Was that how you were going to finally get rid of me? That was your plan? That's a bad plan, Jacker Barrel."
"You misheard me," Jack said. "I didn't say 'kamikaze,' I said 'Comikaze.'"
"Ja- They sound exactly the f**king same. When did I become the one of us that makes sense?"
"In this one recurring nightmare I have -- but we're not in that right now, this is real life. The word I'm using is a portmanteau of 'Comic' and 'kamikaze.' It's something I want you to attend, it's a comic book convention here in Los Angel-"
I simultaneously vomited and dove out my window.
"See? I told you this wasn't one of my nightmares," Jack said to no one in particular, segging his way to the elevator.