We were watching a movie with some of the other guys when Ian started the silly talk. I was actually glad for the distraction. The movie was getting boring, though the male lead was absolutely yummy.

"I'd love to press his trousers for him," I whispered.

"He is nice," Ian said. "But I love you more."

"No, I love you more."

"I love you more."

"I love you lots more."

"I love you more than monkeys."

"I love you more than . . . elephants."

"I love you more than zebras."

"I love you more than giraffes."

"I love you more than hippopotamuses," he said, then looked up at the ceiling in confusion. "Hippopotameese? Hippopotamoose? What is the proper plural of hippopotamus?"

"For the love of God, will you shut up?" Trent had paused the movie and was turned around, glaring at us. "I can't stand listening to you two babble on about who loves who more! Get a room!"

"Still haven't found a girlfriend, have you, Trent?" I smirked.

"That is beside the point!"

"Nope," said Ian. "Hasn't found one."

"Have you considered batting for our team?" I suggested. "It's a tough job, but the fringe benefits are good."

"Look, all I want to do is watch the movie, okay? Can you let me do that?"

"Hippopotamuses is the correct plural," said Price.

"How do you know that?" I asked.

"I just looked it up."

"I want one of those Google phones," Ian said.

"Could we please get back to the movie now?" The veins were starting to pop out on Trent's forehead. It was not a good look for him.

"When does stuff start exploding?" I asked.

"This isn't an exploding-things movie. This is a sit-and-think-about-it movie. So be quiet so I can think!"

"No explosions? How about car chases?"

"How about you shut up and watch it and find out for yourself?"

"Okay, okay! I'm sorry!"

He started the movie up again, and I did my best to be quiet, though it wasn't easy. Ian was drawing pictures of a tiger, an elephant, a gorilla, and something that looked like it was probably supposed to be a wild boar, but the tusks came out funny. After each picture, he would pass the drawing pad over to me, but my animals never looked right. I had to draw an arrow underneath with a label telling what it was supposed to be - ZEBRA, LION, GIRAFFE, OSTRICH, and so on.

When I looked up, Mr. Yummy had hooked up with some skinny blonde and they were creeping through a dark tunnel with torches.

WONDER WHO DIES FIRST? I wrote on the pad, and passed it to Ian. He studied the action (such as it was) on the screen before scribbling something and handing it back to me.

The comedy relief. He's usually either fat or black. The unnecessary person always buys it first. The girl and Nice Butt will live to the end of the movie.

YOU THINK HE HAS A NICE BUTT?

Yeah, it's scrumptious.

BETTER THAN MINE?

Ian looked at the screen, then pulled his head back a bit and gazed at a spot just below my back. He went back and forth comparing the two. Then he wrote, and passed the pad over.

Yours is definitely better. Can we ditch this bore-fest and go do something fun?

FIRST I WANT TO SEE WHO DIES.

Me, of terminal excitement, if you don't come NOW.

I read the words, and looked at him. He doodled a little smiley face after the word "now".

FINE. WE HAVE BETTER MOVIES THAN THIS ANYWAY.

Not that we'll see much of them.

I read that and couldn't help giggling. Trent hit pause again and turned around. "Guys, please! Behave yourselves!"

"Don't worry," I said. "We're leaving."

"You don't have to do that. Just be quiet."

"I think we've had enough of quiet. We're in the mood to get noisy."

"Okay, I don't need to know that! Go! Have fun!"

"Oh, we will."

He restarted the movie, and we gathered up our leftover snacks (hey, why waste good junk food?) and headed out the door. Just before we got there, I heard something and turned around.

A guy who looked like Jack Black - it might even have been him; I didn't pay much attention during the credits - had just taken a long step off a cliff. The camera followed him all the way down.

"He's dead, right?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah," Price said. "He's dead."

"Told ya," said Ian, and we exited, stage right.