Penne is at a bar with his friend Blotch, when he is approached by an enormously unattractive girl. A girl that has fallen off the ugly tree, gotten hit by the fat bus, attacked by the pimple wolves and then mauled by the gnomes of unproportional facial features. She is so ugly that Blotch literally starts laughing as she approaches and has to leave the table. Penne is too petrified to move.

Abomination: Hi.
Penne: (Silence; staring into her eyes as if watching the scary part of the movie where you don’t want to look but have to because it’s so frightening.)
Abomination: My friend thinks you’re cute.
Penne: But she has a boyfriend so she sent you so I’d flee in horror thus saving her relationship?
Abomination: Huh?

Sometimes Penne is thankful for his mumble-speak.

Abomination: Fine—I’ll be honest: I think you’re cute.

This sends Blotch into a hysterical fit of laughter. He spits his drink across the barroom floor and turns and begins pacing with his hands over his head, trying to regain his breath. Penne’s eyes are wide with terror. He drinks heavily from his beer in hopes of blurring the grotesque monstrosity that stands before him, but to no avail. He is literally offended and considers killing himself at the thought that she would ever think she even has a remote chance of landing him.

Penne remains silent. Abomination keeps talking and saying things like, "So you’re one of those quiet types; I like that, kinda mysterious…" and, "You don’t have to say anything; your eyes speak sonnets." Penne nearly vomits.

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He can’t help but imagine what went through her head as she considered approaching him, but each line he conjures up makes him angrier. Penne has landed pretty girls. He has landed beautiful girls. He has landed nearly every girl he’s ever gone after, and now Swamp Thing’s offspring legitimately thinks she has a chance with him. Blotch is standing with his back to the table, pretending not to listen.

Abomination: So you wanna, like, go somewhere else?

That’s it. Last straw.

Penne: I’m calling Norway.
Abomination: Huh?
Penne: I’m calling the Norwegian Nobel Committee.
Abomination: Why…?
Penne: I’m going to win the Nobel Prize for capturing Bigfoot’s half-aborted fetus.
Abomination: (confused look, not understanding)
Penne: Fine, but I’m at least calling Hanford.
Abomination: Hanford? The nuclear place?
Penne: Yes. I am afraid their contaminants have leaked into a nearby Twinkie factory and are mutating its top customers.
Abomination: Excuse me?
Penne: The word Twinkie gets you excited?
Abomination: (Mish-mash of angry perplexities)
Penne: My dick is a not a Twinkie.
Abomination: What!?
Penne: I feel sorry for your bed.
Abomination: Excuse me!?!
Penne: Your scale is not broken, it is mad at you.
Abomination: You…you…dick!
Penne: Again, not a Twinkie.

And that does it. Abomination steps back and throws her glass of whatever bitch drink was on special that night at Penne’s shirt. And then, because women are 100% equal to men in his mind, Penne dumps his beer on her head.

Blotch, who shares Penne’s view of women being equal, hollers "Suffrage, bitch!" in her face, and begins dry humping a chair.

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Equality is a beautiful thing.