It is a hot summer day. The smell of barbeque wafts through the air, caught on a gentle breeze. Two middle-aged men are standing over a smoking hunk of meat as it sizzles on the grill, the juices escaping as they breathe in the charcoaled aroma. An attractive young woman jogs by on her daily run, her tight-fitting T-shirt and running shorts clinging to her body.

Rick: “That’s a nice piece right there.”

Hank: “Damn straight…nice and juicy.”

Rick: “Man…you can’t beat a rack like that.”

Hank: “No sir.”

Rick: “Well, I guess you could if you knew where to shop.”

Hank: “True that.”

Rick: “I guess I’m more of a dark meat kinda guy. Something with a bit more on it.”

Hank: “Red, white, dark; it’s all the same to me. All good on the inside.”

Rick: “Fair point. To each his own.”

Hank: “You figure she’s about done?”

Rick: “Soon enough. She smokes a little after.”

Hank: “How long?”

Rick: “Not too long.”

Hank: “I like mine better without it. All I need’s a little salt.”

Rick: “She’s got plenty on her.”

Hank: “Not too much. Just enough.”

Rick: “Enough to make a man hungry, that’s for sure.”

Hank: “Damn straight.”

Rick: “My wife hates when I do this.”

Hank: “A man can’t help himself. It’s in our DNA.”

Rick: “I’m just trying to watch my intake. Too much of a good thing, you know.”

Hank: “You only live once.”

Rick: “True.”

Hank: “Besides, a man’s got an appetite. You can’t give ‘em what he wants, he’ll find it somewhere else.”

Rick: “Yeah…so what did the doctor say?”

Hank: “You know how it is. Same ole’ same ole.’ Take this twice a day, do this, don’t do that. Monitor this, pay attention to that.”

Rick: “Sucks man.”

Hank: “Ah, to hell with ‘em, I say. Don’t need someone tellin’ me what to do. It’s my body anyway.

Rick: “You don’t think you’re taking a risk?”

Hank: “Gotta die of something.”

Rick: “Yeah, I guess so. Might as well still get it while you can.”

Hank: “Damn straight.”

Rick: “Should we check on her?”

Hank: “Too soon. She’s gotta smoke, remember?”

Rick: “Right. Forgot about that part.”

Hank: “Shit! You act like you’ve never done this before.”

Rick: “No, I have…just not for awhile.”

Hank: “Then watch and learn from the master.”

Rick steps back, eagerly watching as hank moves in. They are both salivating.

Hank: “You have to know what she likes.”

Rick: “Didn’t think to ask.”

Hank: “You don’t ask, you know. It’s an instinct thing.”

Rick: “Do you grab her by the top or the bottom?”

Hank: “Middle.”

Rick: “Why’s that?”

Hank: “Lets you be in control of her.”

Rick: “Right.”

Hank: “You wanna make sure you turn her over good, too.”

Rick: “Why’s that?”

Hank: “You gotta get a good look at both sides before you go to town.”

Rick: “Makes sense.”

Hank: “You don’t do that, you don’t know what you’ll bite into.”

Rick: “You think she’s ready now?”

Hank: “Yeah. I think she’s ready.”

Hank reaches his hand into the grill, accidentally burning it as he reaches for a stray rib.

Hank, grabbing his burned hand: “Shit!”

Rick rushes to Hank’s side, accidentally catching his foot on one of the grill’s legs. He trips and falls to the ground as the grill topples over, spilling the ribs onto the patio with a loud crash.

Hank: “What the hell Rick!?”

Rick: “It was an accident! I swear!”

Hank: “Shit! What are we going to eat now?!”

Both men are swearing at each other. Suddenly something catches their eye. They suddenly grow quiet and begin to stare. The jogging woman has stopped for a minute to smoke. Feeling their gaze, she drops her cigarette on the ground and runs off. They begin to salivate.


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