Skin: Mickey D's is pulling tomatoes off its sammiches because of an outbreak of some busted word I don't wanna type. Farmers are pissed, but kids are lovin' it. I predict it replaces tomatoes with a smooth, creamy layer of fried fried.

Ben: To prove to your wife how gangsta I am, I recently started an all-tomato diet. I've gained six pounds by not vomiting. I'm also working on a new car that runs entirely on salmonella.

Skin: That'd be cute if you vomited the salmonella directly into the gas tank, like a mama bird feeding the young'uns. That image reminds me of American portraits by the likes of Norman Rockwell or David Lynch. What's salmonella?

Ben: It's a type of fuel that tastes great on burgers and reminds people of birds. Plus, it has just half the carbs of typhoid fever! Don't believe all the negative hype that Big Oil is disseminating.

Ben: I'd buy a tiny, gas-saving Prius, but I'm afraid people would think I was a giant baby human trying to break out of a massive rolling egg. That could cause accidents.

Skin: Yeah, but accidents are hilarious. Didn't you ever watch the Three Stooges? I'd like to see you hatch yourself out of that egg, so that your doppelgänger could nourish you with regurgitated salmonella.

Ben: Let's not make this sexual. But speaking of, some people think I look just like Al Gore. Shockingly, that's never helped me pick up white women.

Skin: I've always said you look like the black Al Gore. Not many people know this, but "I'm Still in Love With You" is an ode to melting glaciers.

Ben: BPs are far better in our imagination than they are in reality. Nothing good can come from them. Unless "good" means spending your mortgage payment on strippers, listening to loud hair metal and drinking $12 cocktails with troubled dudes you last saw in high school.

Skin: Ahhh, the good life. I went to one last week where the bride-to-be was hanging out, and there wasn't even a hint of hookers, blow or juggling midgets. Back when I was a kid, they called bachelor parties like that "Wednesdays."

Ben: Do you wanna know the difference between your formative years and the life of a third-tier strip-club DJ? So do I.

Skin: Please, that's easy. I outgrew hair metal, and I'm not a Mavs Maniac. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to vomit fuel into a juggling midget's mouth.

Send tomato recipes to benandskin@quickdfw.com.