Stomach: Psst. Hey. Hey, you guys. Psst. You guys, wake up.

Liver: [Mrfflle.]

Stomach: Hey, wake up, you guys!

Liver: Shhhh.

Stomach: You guys?

Lower Intestine: Shhhh!

Stomach: You guuuyyyys…I’m huuuuungry.

Kidneys: SHHHH! God!

Stomach: Well, it’s eleven-thirty, and —

Liver: Dude, shut up. Seriously.

Stomach: Look, if you guys want to lie around all day, that’s fine, but I’ve been up since eight o’clock and I want something to eat, so —

Lungs: Fucking shut UP, dude! Nobody cares about your stupid growling!

Stomach: Fuck YOU, dude! You and your hacking, what a fucking baby. Why don’t you just get over yourself and —

Liver: Both of you SHUT UP right FUCKING now, I mean it. The head is sleeping, and if we wake it up before the kidneys get done processing those seven glasses of Merlot, we’ll all wind up in the shit, so cram it.

Lungs: Exactly my point. Thank you.

Stomach: Oh, that’s right, choose up sides like you always do.

Lungs: I wouldn’t HAVE to choose up SIDES if you hadn’t woken everybody in the damn place UP when we’re trying to RECUPERATE, and it’s not like you want to eat anything WORTHWHILE, ohhhh no, it’s always “tuna melt, tuna melt, TUNA MELT”!

Stomach: Oh, like it makes a difference to YOU, you smoke-swilling masochistic —

Liver: What did I JUST SAY? Could I get any sicker of having to mediate these arguments? The HEAD is SLEEPING. Both of you, QUIET DOWN.

Stomach: Fine.

Lungs: Fine!

Stomach: FINE!

Lungs: Now, see, this is what I’m talking about. Always with the having to have the last word.

Stomach: Excuse me, but who’s trying to have the last word here?

Kidneys: Oh, for fuck’s sake. Could you two just leave it alone, please, for me? I’m trying to work over here. If you can’t just sit quietly, then go get some water so we can hurry this up.

Lungs: Yeah, water would help.

Stomach: Don’t tell me what to do.

Liver: I really, REALLY don’t need this today. Just get the freaking water, okay? Please?

Stomach: Fine, I’ll get the water. Just like I do EVERYTHING ELSE around here.

Lower Intestine: Always with the put-upon routine, that one.

Lungs: God, NO KIDDING.

Stomach: Could you not talk about me like I’m not even here when I am DOING you a FAVOR?

Kidneys: Doing us a favor would be getting the water and shutting up before the head wakes up and kicks all of our asses, dude. So get the water. AND SHUT UP.

Lungs: Yeah.

Kidneys: You know, you aren’t helping.

Lungs: What? What did I say? I’m just sitting here, minding my own —

Lower Intestine: You’re instigating, is what you’re doing.

Lungs: Are you kidding me? Whose whining woke everyone up? Don’t make this MY fault.

Liver: Oh, for Christ’s sake. Look, nobody’s accusing you of anything, but all those cigarettes last night? That’s half the reason we don’t want to wake the head up in the first place, so if you could just not, you know, fan the flames when the stomach starts —

Lungs: Dude, we’ve had this conversation a million times, and it always comes back to —

Kidneys: And it’s not like you kept all that quiet this morning yourself, you know.

Lungs: I thought we talked about that.

Kidneys: Well, we did.

Lungs: If you’ve got something to say to me —

Liver: Okay, seriously, everyone? We need to not do this right now, because it’s getting really loud in here, and if the head —

Lungs: “The head” this, “the head” that — why don’t you try thinking for yourself for once instead of blaming everything on the guys upstairs?

Lower Intestine: THAT’S gonna leave a mark.

Liver: Ex-CUSE me? I ain’t trying to hear that, buddy. And you can just stay out of it, COLON.

Lower Intestine: Oh, that’s right. Get defensive.

Liver: Nobody’s getting defensive here. I’m merely trying to point out that we should keep the noise level —

Stomach: You are getting a little defensive.

Lungs: “Nobody’s ACCUSING you of anything.”

Liver: I am NOT getting DEFENSIVE, I am TRYING to MAINTAIN some ORDER, and for your INFORMATION, it was NOT MY CHOICE to swill alcohol for SIX HOURS, but somebody has to —

Spleen: Waaaahh! Waaaaaaaaahh! WAAAAAAAAHH!!

Kidneys: Oh, you woke up the spleen. Nice one.

Lower Intestine: Right after we got her down for her nap, too. Jesus.

Lungs: Are you happy now? Is your Swiss-cheese ass HAPPY now?

Liver: I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry! Just — everyone stop yelling. I’m sorry I lost my temper.

Lower Intestine: You know what your problem is?

Lungs: Oh, this ought to be good.

Lower Intestine: Shut up, you. Seriously. You know what your problem is? Isinglass.

Liver: Who in the what now?

Stomach: It’s a compound in wines. It’s too hard for us to process, so it gets sent straight to you.

Lower Intestine: And then through the kidneys, and then to the head. Which starts aching. Isinglass, I’m telling you.

Liver: Okay, I know you’re just trying to help, but my problem is not isinglass. My problem is years of abuse at the hands of cheap beer.

Stomach: You know, the first step to solving a problem —

Lungs: What would YOU know about solving problems, fat boy?

Stomach: Oh, because you’re SO adept at solving problems, right? LIKE CHRONIC BRONCHITIS?

Lungs: That’s right, take the cheap shot. It doesn’t change the fact that you’d digest US if we had CHEESE sprinkled on us, you HOG!

Stomach: Fuck you! What do you want me to do, barf it up? We don’t live in a model — or maybe you didn’t know, since you SMOKE LIKE ONE!

Liver: All right, all right, can we just —

Lungs: Maybe you should take THAT up with THE ASS, since you’re its SUGAR DADDY!

Kidneys: You guys, seriously —

Ass: Hey, has anyone called for me?

Kidneys, Lungs, Stomach, and Liver: NO!

Ass: Okay, okay, sorry. No harm in asking. Hey, how did these bruises get here?

Lungs: Butt out, saggy.

Lower Intestine: Heh. “BUTT out.” Geddit?

Liver: You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. All right, folks —

Lungs: No, I’ve got something to say to the old windbag.

Lower Intestine: “The old windbag”? That’s the best you can do? Bring it on, HACKY SACK!

Lungs: Oh no you didn’t!

Kidneys: Hey, hey, I think that’s —

Lower Intestine: Let’s hear it, COUGHY WITH CREAM AND SUGAR!

Lungs: Oh, that’s it. It’s time you heard the truth, FART CARNEY, and the truth is that nobody, and I mean nobody, thinks your stupid-ass Paul Reiser-style “humor” is funny, so maybe you could SHUT UP!

Stomach: Daaaaamn. That is COLD.

Lower Intestine: PAUL REISER? You did NOT just compare me to Paul Reiser.

Lungs: Ohhh, but I did.

Lower Intestine: Well, then, excuse me while I compare YOU to Jack Nicholson — old, BROWN, completely WORTHLESS, and hanging around a much YOUNGER BODY to the complete DISGUST of all and sundry!

Kidneys: Wow. Okay, y’all? You really need to simmer —

Liver: Somebody wake the skin up because THAT is a BURN!

Lungs: Fuck all of you!

Lower Intestine: Nice comeback, Smokey Robinson.

Kidneys: You guys! Seriously! The head! Is! SLEEPING!

Head: Auuuggggh. Ohhhhhh. Yow.

Liver: Uh oh.

Kidneys: Shit. I’ve still got a glass and a half left.

Lungs: Okay, everybody just lie really still, and maybe —

Stomach: But I —

Lower Intestine: Shhhhh!

Head: Duuuude. How much did I drink last night?

Stomach: [Guuuuurrrrrgle?] Oops. Sorry, guys.

Lungs: Oh, great. Here we go.

Head: AUUUGGGGGGGHHHH!

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