Illinoir

“CJ!” Mitch said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”
“Miss Parker just came by to say hello,’ Hobie lied.
“Yes, I did,” CJ said, smiling and giving Mitch a hug, pressing her surgically enhanced bust against his muscular chest. “It’d been way too long since I’d seen little Hobie so I thought I’d just drop in.”
“How nice of you, CJ,” Mitch said. “Too bad Hobie has a date tonight and can’t hang out with you.”
“Oh he has a date, has he?” CJ asked. “And who is the lucky young lady?”
“Sarah Hanson,” Hobie said uncomfortably.
“Well, if you have sex with her, be sure to use a condom,” CJ smirked. “You don’t know where these girls have been nowadays.”
“CJ!” exclaimed Mitch. “Now, that’s very good advice, but hardly appropriate. Hobie, your Auntie CJ means well, but I don’t want you to get into any sort of trouble tonight, if you know what I mean.”
“Don’t worry, Dad, I won’t be having sex tonight.”
“Not with Sarah, anyway,” CJ said, under her breath.
“What was that, CJ?” Mitch asked.
“I said, ‘It is simply amazing what our government is able to perpetrate under the guise being the world’s police force. Consider the situation in Iraq. Our nation forbids other nations from invading their neighbors, and yet we send troops halfway across the world and do the same thing, only we call it nation-building and a war on terrorism.’”
“Oh,” Mitch said. “Because it sounded like you said ‘Rot in Harrah’s heyday.’”
“What on Earth does that mean?” CJ asked.
“I honestly don’t know,” Mitch said. “That’s why I asked you.”
“Well, I don’t know. The two things don’t sound a bit alike.”
“I know,” Mitch said, confused. “This is very perplexing.”
“Yes, it is.”
Breaking up this verbal repartee was the doorbell; the savior of the uncomfortable, the destroyer of awkward situations. Oh great and powerful doorbell, amazing and wonderful bringer of new life into dull and tired scenes, we give your our praise and glory and hope that you will bless us with fresh blood. Ding-dong.