Permission Granted

Me: "Mr. and Mrs. Kelly, I wanted to ask your permission to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage."

Mr. Kelly: [spit-take]

Mrs. Kelly: "Oh."

Me: "Please. Contain your enthusiasm."

Mrs. Kelly: "Well, it's just that we were holding out for someone more... well, you know."

Me: "I completely understand."

Mr. Kelly: "We might as well take it, Martha. She's not getting any younger. This is as good as it's going to get."

Me: "Tell me about it. I wasn't exactly pushing back other suitors on this one, if you catch me."

Mr. Kelly: "You hear that? That's my point. I say we go for it. What do you do, son?"

Me: "Have you ever heard of an investment banker?"

Mrs. Kelly: "Oh my, yes!"

Me: "Yeah, when they park their cars downtown, I'll clean under the mats with a Dustbuster and get their floors pretty clean. $3 a car."

Mr. Kelly: "That's good money."

Me: "Oh yeah. Plus I'll scoop quarters out of the change holder if there's enough they won't miss it."

Mr. Kelly: "That's go-getter thinking. I like your stuff."

Me: "Thanks." [pause] "I like your stuff too."

Diane: "Mom? Dad? I'm home!"

Mrs. Kelly: "In the living room, dear!" [to me] "Looks like this is it. Should we leave?"

Me: "Fuck it, I don't care. Let's just get this over with."

Diane: [entering room] "Jay? What are you...?"

Me: [cold-cocking her onto sofa with an uppercut] "Marry me, bitch!"

Mrs. Kelly: [dabbing eyes] "Oh, I promised I wouldn't do this..."

Mr. Kelly: "If anyone needs me I'm going to go lie down in the yard."

Me: [lifting Diane up into a Gorilla Press] "Marry me or I give you a Tombstone Piledriver! You'll never take away my Intercontinental title, Diane! That's a promise!"

Mrs. Kelly: [sobbing] "Oh, here I go..."