(Scene: KC calls his grandparents' house. His Grandpa Buck answers.)
Grandpa Buck: Hello?
KC: Hi Grandpa! It's KC. How are you?
GB: Huh? Who is this? Speak louder?
KC: GRANDPA! IT'S KC!
GB: Bette! I thinks it's one of those Jews asking for money again!
Your cousin has lots of friends here that don't mind showing off a little leg. I don't mind looking.Grandma Bette (in background): Turn on your hearing aid you dumb old fart.
Grandpa Buck: OKAY! Look, Goldsteiner, I don't want none of your free trips to Nigeria.
KC: Um, Grandpa. It's KC. Your grandson.
GB: Ah heck! Sorry about that. My ear-doohickey was off. Say, how are you doing?
KC: I'm good. I had some free time so I thought I'd give you and Grandma a call.
GB: Okay. You know Old Magnus and Marge down the way?
KC: No.
GB: They is about to have another great grandkid. Me and Grandma are gettin' jealous all sorts of ways. When are you going to have some?
KC: I don't know. That's not going to be for a while I guess.
GB: Dog gone, I sure do like to hear from you. What's up in that big city you live in? You making it big yet?
KC: Nope.
GB: You gotcha yerself a girlfren?
KC: Uh, nope.
GB: Well, what's your problem? You're good looking. You're educated. You ain't queer. Are you?
KC: No. No. Not at all. It's just, I haven't found the right one.
GB: Who cares? There's lots of pretty girls. Heck, your cousin has lots of friends here that don't mind showing off a little leg. And I don't mind looking.
KC: That's pretty gross, Gramps.
GB: If there's one thing I know, it's that if a girl is going to show something, you shouldn't mind looking. Don't they teach you that stuff in those fancy schools you go to?
KC: They didn't really teach us anything important. I mean, you lived through the Great Depression, fought in World War II, contracted malaria in a POW camp, sent two of your sons to Vietnam, knew your wife for two months before getting married to her, stayed married to her for 68 years, survived open heart surgery and all this stuff. You've got all kinds of wisdom I don't have.
GB: Boy, if I'd a only hadda known the things I know about women when I was yer age. I'd have never gone home alone.
KC: So teach me.
GB: Maybe if you'd get a proper haircut, shave that beard and get rid of all them tattoos you got, you'd be gettin' lucky.
KC: Uhh. Anything else?
GB: When you put on your blue jeans, make sure you wear your nicest shirt. And tuck it in too. Girls like that.
KC: It's a little more complicated than that now.
GB: Okay, at the ice cream socials, don't go for the girls that take the double scoops of chocolate. They is going to get fat. Unless you like fat. Turning off lights can cure ugly, but it don't cure fat.
KC: Gramps, there hasn't been an ice cream social for like 50 years.
GB: You're kiddin' me. How's you s'posed to meet girls if there's no ice cream social? Heck, that's why yer single. Maybe shoot her a few good rabbits for stew? Women love cookin' a good stew.
KC: Um, we don't have too many rabbits in Brooklyn. Besides…
GB: You got squirrels though. Them's good eatin' too. Need a lot of salt though.
KC: Maybe I can ask you a question. You can give me advice.
GB: Okay, Boy. Shoot. Let Old Grandpa the Love Doctor help you out.
Grandpa Buck: She wants your tallywacker in the pooper? You've found yourself a winner then. KC: So I have two girls. Two problems.
GB: It don't sound like a problem to me! I knew you were a chip off of my block, Boy!
KC: It's not really that awesome. You see, I called one girl and left her a voicemail asking her if she wanted to do dinner and a movie.
GB: That's good. Women sure do love movies and eatin' supper. Long as it ain't too much you're in the right territory.
KC: That's the thing, all she did was just text me a smiley face emoticon.
GB: Wait, are you dating a colored girl?
KC: Me? No.
GB: An Injun? Some of them Injun girls are mighty cute. They can cook too. They don't talk none too much.
KC: No, Gramps. An emoticon is when somebody doesn't really feel like using real words, so they just use a colon…
GB: She wants your tallywacker in the pooper? You've found yourself a winner then.
KC: No, like the punctuation mark. You put a colon and a parenthesis together and it makes a smiley face.
GB: So this colored girl is retarded and can't make real words?
KC: No, I already told you. She sent me a text message.
GB: What's that? Like a letter? Some girls are awful fine at writing pretty letters, then they is awful ugly when you meet them. I learned that during the war.
KC: You're right. This girl is retarded. Let's talk about the other one. The other girl is smoking hot, and I've talked to her a few times. We came close to hooking up a few times, but her roommate walked in. She just broke up with her boyfriend, and she's posted a few things on my wall. But her Facebook profile lists her as engaged to another girl.
GB: Wait! You're tryin' do swap spit with a queer girl? You know that makes you queer too!
KC: No, it's a joke. I want to make her my girl though.
GB: And she's spray paintin' on your wall like those Mexicans did to my fence?
KC: No, on Facebook. It's on the Internet. It's kind of like MySpace. Er, Friendster.
GB: Is that Jap talk?
KC: No, it's a new thing out there. Let me see if I can explain it so you'll understand. Okay. I've got it. Facebook is kind of like a mix between an ice cream social and the Yellow Pages. She leaves me notes on the cover of my copy of the Yellow Pages. I want her to wear my letterman's jacket, but she's wearing another girl's jacket–as a joke. I want to hold her hands and stuff. I want to pretend to make you some great-grandchildren with her, but pull out and spray it on her tits beforehand. But I don't know if she's willing to commit to this type of sort-of-no-strings relationship. Dig it? Does any of this shit actually make sense?
GB: <<<<PPRECH. PPRECH.>>> I'm going through a tunnel, KC. Looks like I'll be losing you soon.
KC: Grandpa, this is your land line. You can't be going through a tunnel. You don't even have a cell phone. Or your driver's license any more.
GB: Well, Grandma hooked up this phone to the, um, RV. Yep. We're driving the RV to, um, Idaho. Nice beaches there. I know how expensive these phone calls are, so I better let you go.
KC: It's cool, Grandpa. This is actually my cell phone. I get free weekend minutes. I can talk all you want.
GB (yelling off the phone): Bette, did you hear that? He gets free weekend minutes! I know, I'm bored of him too. Let's get back to watching Law & Order!
GB (back to KC): You're a smart guy, KC. It's time to, uh, take my pill or something. You'll do just fine. Enjoy the watermelon selling or whatever the heck you do.
KC: Bye, Grandpa.
END