Mr. Popularity

Clinton Kelly (My about-to-get-busier-than-ever IV): “I’ve just surpassed 11,000 followers on Twitter.”

Kathryn: (Takes sip of Cloudy) “Sweet. I think I just broke 60.”

CK: (Surprised) “60…thousand?”

K: “Nope. Just 60. ‘Course it’s probably more like 50, once you take out ‘X-rated Mama’ & ‘Cum C Naked Pics’ and somebody named ‘JessieSquirts17’…(winces)…I couldn’t even bring myself to click on that one.”

CK: “Yikes." (Raises glass in toast.) "Well, quality over quantity.”

K: (Takes another sip) “Yeah. Easy for you to say, Mr. 11k. I don’t care…it's just a number. Like your age.”

CK: (Pauses. Blue eyes staring off into the distance.) “What’s that supposed to mean? Somehow, I do believe you’ve managed to insult my Twitter stats and my recent milestone birthday all in one fell swoop.”

K: (Puts down glass) “Okay, what the hell does that even mean? It sounds like a great name for a rapper. ‘And now, ladies and gentlemen…MTV Awards presents, ONE FELL SWOOP!’….and the audience goes wild! KA-BOOM, CHUCKA-LUCKA-LUCKA, BOOM-CHUCKA-LUCKA!”

CK: (Stares, deadpan) “Are you finished? That is the worst rapper imitation I've ever heard. I believe it’s Shakespeare, actually.”

K: “Oh, c’mon. You’re making this up. There’s no freakin’ way you’d know this…”

CK: (Clears throat) “’All my pretty ones? Did you say all? O hell-kite! All? What, all my pretty chickens and their dam…at one fell swoop?’ Macbeth. 1605.” (Pumps fist in the air in triumph.)

K: (Stares, mouth agape) “You are so totally making this up. ‘Hell-kite?!’ I don’t think so.”

CK: “Macduff had just heard his entire family and servants had been killed. Show some respect.”

K: (Picks up drink again) “Huh. My condolences…it’s not every day your family gets annihilated by a kite. I’d say ‘oh, hell’ too…”

CK: (Chuckles) “Actually, ‘the kite’ referred to is a hunting bird, like the Red Kite…which was common in England in Tudor times. It’s like a falcon.”

K: “How do you even know this stuff? Are you some kind of robot? Domo Arigato Mr. Roboto. Who’s Macduff calling his ‘chickens’ and his ‘dam’, anyway?”

CK: (Rolls eyes) “How the hell should I know? I wasn’t there.”

K: (Thinks for a minute) “Maybe the chickens are his ‘chicks’, or his children…and maybe his ‘dam’ is his wife. Like, 'Bring me my lager woman...dammit!', or like a ‘damsel in distress’...which she definitely would’ve been, with that kite bearing down on the whole family and all...and with her trying to run in that long skirt...with his stinkin' beer gripped tightly in her arms." (Pauses) "What do you think?”

CK: (Sighs) “I think that only you can divert an innocent comment about Twitter into an intense debate over the correct usage of verbiage from 400 years ago.”

K: (Takes sip....smiles.) “Tweet.”