The Box

"Well, what do you think it is?"
"I don't know, what do you think it is?"
"I don't know. There's not a name on it. Should we open it?"
"We'd better not, he'd be pissed."
"But what if he left it for us?"
"But there's no note!"
"Like that would do us any good. Do you remember the last time he left a note?"
"It's not my fault he has bad handwriting."
"It said, 'Give your brother Billy another chance'."
"I know what it said!"
"You thought it said 'Wave your willy and do a dance."
"That was embarrassing."
"For you and the neighbors, I'm sure."
"I don't need to relive it, thanks. Now, what about the box?"
"Let's see if we can guess what's in it. It's not too big..."
"Breadbox size. Do people use breadboxes still? I have one of those trays, but it's not really a box."
"Will you focus? No markings, big red bow."
"So, it's a gift, for sure."
"Safe assumption. A gift, so maybe something you wouldn't normally get for yourself..."
"A vibrator!"
"What? What is wrong with you?"
"What do you mean? You said something I wouldn't normally get for myself. I wouldn't get a vibrator. Or a butt plug. OK, maybe a butt plug."
"Why is everything always about sex to you?"
"It is not."
"It is! We get something, we don't even know what it is, and you assume it's something to stick in a hole."
"Vibrators aren't just for holes."
"Dude! Stop. It's not all about sex!"
"OK, but you have to admit a lot of the time it is."
"No, a lot of the time you make it about sex. You're obsessed. Sometimes a box is just a box. What are you laughing at?"
"You said box."
"Yeah, so?"
"Box means vagina."
"Only if you're a perv. Stop reading into things and get serious."
"Okay, fine. If the box is for us, and he didn't leave a note, and we can't call him, we'll just have to assume the gift is the box. With a pretty bow."
"That is ridiculous. the box is not the gift. We should just open it."
"ARE YOU CRAZY? Don't open it! He'll kill us!"
"Boxes are meant to be opened. He wouldn't have left it if he didn't want us to open it."
"Look, I know this guy in California, and he got a box just like this, and he opened it, and a rabid possum jumped out and ate his face."
"That's a lie."
"Is that a risk you want to take? You'd rather have your face gnawed off by a rabid possum than just be happy with the damned box?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Look, it's a nice box. Just enjoy the box. It's neat and clean and has a pretty bow and everyone can agree that it's a box. Once you open it, there's no telling what's going to be inside."
"I know. Isn't that exciting?"
"No! No, it's not exciting! It's lunacy! You open that box and the next thing you know the streets are teeming with rabid possums and no one has a face because they've all been chewed off and who suffers? The children! Won't someone think of the children?"
"Look, if you don't want to be a part of this, then clear out. Because I'm not happy with the box. I want to open the box, because I can't live my life knowing there's an unopened gift. It's silliness. You and your vibrators and rabid possums can do what you want, but I am opening this box. Do you hear me? I am opening this fucking box."

"You're going to be sorry."