If real life were a sitcom, mine would sound something like this: DUSTIN. Hey, if anybody cares, I’m home! GORDY. Nobody cares. [Canned laughter] MOM. Dustin, you’re late. GORDY. Yeah, dork. DUSTIN. Juvenile delinquent! I waited around to help Pepper carry some junk home, Mom. GORDY. That’s about the best you can do. A girl who thinks she’s a boy. DUSTIN. Jealous! Better than hanging with pizza-face Edith, playing with her barbed-wire collection. [Canned laughter] [Gordy gets Dustin in a headlock.] GORDY. Take it back! DUSTIN. Eeeoow, you have diarrhea breath! Mom, help! MOM. Gordon, let go of your brother-now! This isn’t the zoo. GORDY. He belongs in a zoo. DUSTIN. Oh, good one, brainiac. What would we do without Gordy’s sense of humor? Gordy, what do you do without it?
