M: Happy New Year Greg!
G: Shut up.
M: Well I see that you haven't resolved to be a decent human being this year. I'm not going to let you get me down. I am having a fantastic year so far.
G: Piss off.
M: Yeah so anyway, ever since I got back to school everthing has been great. People recognize me on the street from the picture they ran beside our final columm. It's great, all these cute girls talk to me. This guy even bought me a drink at a bar last night. It's like we're famous now.
G: Marcelo, there's good famous and then there's bad famous.
M: Well, Greg, I don't see how cute girls and free drinks could mean bad famous.
G: This fellow who bought you a drink, what did he look like?
M: Well he dressed nice... He had a pink ascott... He was a photographer. He asked me to go to his place and model for him. Think about that. I could be even more famous.
G: Sure, you'd be famous. Famous as the latest boy toy on the Boston scene.
M: Huh?
G: Your photographer friend was GAY!
M: What!?! No he wasn't.
G: What was his name?
M: Armand.
G: See?
M: Look just because he has a fruity name, wears a pink ascot, and wants me to pose for a swimming catalog . . . OH DEAR GOD! He was gay, and so were Raul and Sergio... They were all gay. How did you know?
G: Marcelo, you spent your vacation in the big city. When I returned to the good old cornfields of Indiana, I was ostracized by everyone. My would-be "friends" rejected me. Billy Bob wouldn't talk to me, and Charlie Joe tried to run me over with the new tractor he got for Christmas. I was assaulted with a barrage of rotten food as I was trying to leave town. They were yelling, "Here's some fruit for the fruit!" Dumb Hicks didn't even know corn is a vegetable.
M: Oh, I didn't want to mention the black eye. I thought your girlfriend beat you up.
G: She did. Never let your girlfriend think that you're gay.
M: Gay? ...but you're not... and ... you mean everyone thinks that you and I are gay?! That sucks. If someone buys me a drink expecting sex, I want it to be a hot chick. It all meakes sense now. That's why all the girls wanted stay up all night so we could talk. Do you know how many times I had to watch Steel Magnolias?!? I hate that movie. Why would you want to watch a movie that makes you cry?
G: Uhh....
M: Why the hell does everyone think we're gay?
G: If you don't remeber, when the Free Press ran pictures of all of its columnists for the final "millenium" issue, a photgrapher came and took 36 pictures of us. Many of them were very flattering, but look at the picture they picked.
M: They picked the picture of you wearing that gold mask. I remember the photographer saying that it was going to be a really good picture.
G: Yeah, "good" meaning GAY. They picked the absolute gayest picture possible. They WANTED to convince the population that we're gay.
M: Why would the Free Press want my classmates, professors, Armand, and your hick friends to think we're gay?
G: Think Marcelo. The Free Press is a newspaper. The only thing a newspaper wants is its readership. In order to compete in this oversensitve, multicultural, namby-pamby society, they are striving to maintain an image of diversity. Notice that there were two male columnists and two female columnists last semester. Fearing that we swung the balance of power to the male end, the Freep leaders hatched a plan to promote us as its diverse "gay" columnists. Without regard to our feelings, they have plastered this image of us all over campus, hoping to increase their own circulation within the homosexual population at BU. My firend, we have been reduced to nothing but pawns of "the man."
M: I feel so used. Greg, I don't want to be gay. I like women. They are soft, pretty, and they smell good.
G: Yes they do, Marcelo. Yes they do. And that is why we must make our stand against the oppression of the Freep.
M: How?
G: The only way we can. We have to continue our column this semester.
M: Aw, I was hoping to pass my classes this semester.
G: Silence. You must not hold your education above your honor. We must continue. This column is our only weapon against the slanderous establishment. Everyone knows that we are the least read columnists in the paper, and the readership can only wane as we offend more and more people. Case in point: If you are a homosexual, and you still read the paper after this column, you've got a hell of a thick skin. Thus, Marcelo, we strike our first blow at the establishement.
M: ...by alienating the very audience they hoped to obtain. Oooo, the irony...
G: That's right. So buckle your safty belts, Boston University, because the Blue Monkeys are back and the ride only gets bumpier.