More fun with the youth group.
Emma: He's a total redneck. I hate him.
Drek: Really? He's a redneck?
Emma: Yeah. Have you seen his truck? It's huge! It all takes diesel and stuff. All the other people at church, they're like, 'I forgot to charge my car last night,' and there he is with this truck that's, like, twice as tall as anyone else's.
Drek's Girlfriend: I don't think that makes him a redneck, though.
Emma: He is! Have you seen those sunglasses he wears?
Drek's Girlfriend: Yeah, they look fine.
Emma: They look stupid! They all wrap around his face like, bwulorgh! [As an editorial note: I really don't know how to spell the sound she made at this point.] His old ones were cool, all square. They made him look like Bono. Hey, there he is now.
Drek and company take a look.
Drek: Emma, he's a redneck like I'm Boston brahmin.
Emma: I thought you were from Florida?
Drek: Right. I keep forgetting that.
This conversation has been modified somewhat for continuity and flow... and because if I try to pepper "like" into my writing as liberally as teenagers seem to use it, I'm fairly sure my third grade teacher will suddenly appear for the sole purpose of bitch-slapping me.