Characters: Michael and Lincoln (Gen, Humor, All-dialogue)
Summary: A little bit of silliness for msgenevieve's birthday. Only slightly late. ;)
"What does it look like, Michael? It's a hot dog!"
"I know that, I mean what's wrong with it?"
"What? Nothing—it's perfect! It's got cheese and sauerkraut and ketchup and relish and mustard—the works!"
"You know what it looks like, don't you?"
"A hot dog."
"Oh, come on, Lincoln. You've been drunk enough times, you've got to have seen piles of—"
"All right, Michael, I get the point already. Clearly you don't want it."
"You're right. Could you… just eat it over there, okay?"
"Sure. Mmmph. So, what happened while I was gone?"
"Cubs dropped two flies and gave up a steal. They're tanking."
"Yeah, what else is new? I'm sorry, though, Michael. I mean, it is your birthday. I hoped they'd do better."
"That's okay—the Cubs losing is kind of part of the birthday tradition."
"Hah! You said it, not me. So, you want a bite?"
"I really don't. But thanks."
"Any time, Michael. How about some soda?"
"Sure, I'll have a sip of—hey, root beer! You remembered!"
"Of course. And I'll even take you out for ice cream after, if you want. Or sooner, if the game turns really hopeless."
"You're on. And thanks."
"You bet. Happy Birthday, Michael. You're old enough to vote… and not much else."
"That's okay. Just glad to be here. With the Cubs losing and all."
"Hey, at least some things never change."
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