Leftover Soup!
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There have been a number of communication method cycles in my life. I'm an email man, myself - that and Twitter. I'm glad phonecalls are going out of vogue, and I'm very glad that the full-body hologram video calls you always see in sci-fi never caught on.

(Monday afternoon, INT: Overdrive Computers)

EB (checking computer): Fuck. Fuck shit damn. It's in a week.
LH: I cannot imagine why you thought that script was a good idea.
LH: I will graciously allow you the time off to attend.
EB: This isn't funny, Lily!
LH: I never said that it was.
EB: My father is getting hitched to Trophy Wife Barbie, and I gotta strap on pink tulle and pretend to be happy about it.
LH: It's probably going to be a major hit to your inheritance.
EB: I don't care about the inheritance! I care about my Dad!
LH: The same dad whose Facebook posts you auto-like, whose emails and phone calls you evidently routinely ignore?
EB: Exactly! Why can't he just text me like a normal person?
LH: Right, because that's the problem here - the communication protocol being used.

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