The two best-
"No, Mitch. We're not the best."
"That's debatable."
... Sorry, the two homosexual members of Pentatonix were hot.
"Damn right we are!"
"Mitch! The author is trying to tell this story!"
"Oops, sorry Morgan."
The LA heat was absolutely sweltering. The weather man had called for extreme highs, but no one was prepared for 108 degrees of pure sun with little to no wind.
"This is what Hell feels like."
"Mitch."
"My bad."
Scott Hoying and Mitch Grassi were two individuals who had, thankfully, made a game plan to fight the heat. The day before had been spent stocking up on ice cream and beer.
"Not together, though. That would be nasty."
"Mitchell!"
The two decided to spend some quality time together by the small pool in their backyard. They hoped that with the combination of cool water, ice cream, and iced beer, the day would be bearable.
"Boy, were we wrong, huh?"
"Now who's interrupting, Scott?"
"What? We might as well finish the story. I mean, we did live it. Morgan?"
By all means, boys. This was your show.
"Great. So, Mitchie was all cute in this little see-through tank and swim shorts."
"Aw, thank you, baby!"
"No problem, sweetums. We had the beer in a cooler that was left open."
"Our first mistake."
"The ice cream was crammed in there."
"Second mistake. We didn't make sure ice covered the whole carton."
"Mitch, I love you, but I'm telling the story."
"Okay, okay. I'll cut out the commentary."
"Morgan, how long do we have to tell the story?"
As long as you would like, hun. But, I do have a date later, so don't go overboard. Thanks.
"Of course."
"A date? Who with?!"
"Mitchell Coby Michael Grassi!"
I'll grab some duck tape.
"No, I'll be good! Promise!"
"Mitch made sure we had plenty of sunscreen on. Even if we didn't get into the pool, there was a high probability of sweating it off. As it was, by the end of our little battle, I was drenched with sweat.
Anyway, we hung out by the pool for a couple of hours. We did end up getting in periodically, just to make sure our body temperatures didn't climb too terribly high. I made sure Mitch turned over every 30 minutes or so to keep him from getting burned. It's really easy for him to burn."
"I was born with naturally olive skin, Muhma. I don't need a tan."
It's a light olive, sweets. You need a tan to achieve Kirstie's tone.
"Or yours."
"Yes, okay. I burn. Happy? Whatever. I soon wanted to try the ice cream, because it was right there, and why the fuck not? I grabbed a plastic spoon and prepared to dig in. Well, as soon as I popped the top off, I looked down to find slush."
"The ice cream has melted pretty badly. We put it into the freezer in the kitchen to try and revive it, but it didn't exactly work."
"There went the $25 worth of ice cream. I tried to push the loss aside and focus on the beer. Alcohol makes everything better."
"Mitch ended up drinking a lot of alcohol, like twice as much as me."
"That's because you couldn't keep up, Queen."
"Long story short, neither one of us applied any more sunscreen and ended up turning as red as a fucking lobster."
"At least I'm a hot lobster."
I don't think anyone is contesting that, Mitch. But, it's not healthy to get burnt.
"That's what I tried to tell him!"
"Life lesson, kiddies. Learn from Mommy's mistake. Always wear sunscreen when trying to battle the sun and heat."
Or, better yet, don't try and fight the heat.
"Just sit in front of air conditioning. That's the best bet."
"This message is approved by Mitch Grassi and Scott Hoying."
You forgot me.
"Oh, the author approves too!"
