PV: I've got to tell you, I'm a huge fan.
S: Stop smurfing at me like that, you leering perv. As if I'd ever smurf a human.
PV: Looking at you like what?
S: You're un-smurfing me with your eyes.
PV: No I'm not. I'm a married man. I don't think impure thoughts about any women, let alone a Smurf. Even if she is the lone female smurf. So hot, so lonely, just waiting for prince charming to whisk her away from a life of cruel exploitation amid an all-male society. So luscious and tempting, but no. I must resist the urge to declare my lifelong lust for the petite blue sex object of my dreams.
S: Did you realize you smurfed that out loud?
P: Was I? Damn. OK, I'll admit it. There was a time in my life when all I could think about was making sweet, sensuous love to you. But that was long ago, 1985. I was 7. You were my one true love in between Ms. Pac Man and Punky Brewster. But no more. I moved on.
S: Good to hear. You'd be smurfed how many fellas your age are still smurfed on me.
P: Do you mean like "Donnie Darko" director Richard Kelly?
S: Yeah, smurf-ally. His sick little smurf-asy about me smurfing Papa Smurf while Gargamel watches and smurfs off? Disgusting.
S: So what?
P: Is there any truth to that. Like, did you have sex with other smurfs, and if so, which ones?
S: There was one special fella, but no. A smurf never smurfs and smurfs.
P: Oh, come on. Everyone really needs to know. It's like one of the greatest mysteries in this world outside of who shot J.F.K. and why people watched "Friends."
S: Smurf off. I'll never tell.
P: Playing hardball, eh? OK, tell me what smurfs you smurfed or else I'm going to release that smurf tape that has you smurfing Gargamel's cat over the Internet.
S: There... uh, is no smurf tape.
P: Try me. I've got it downloaded on my computer at home. I'm not above extortion. Give me the information I demand or else your reputation goes up in flames.
S: I should be so lucky. Did you see what a smurf tape smurfed for Smurfis Smirfton? I'll be insta-famous and hanging with Britney and Lindsay in a heartbeat.
P: Allright, you called my bluff, Smurfette. There is no tape. And even if there were , it would do far more good for your celebrity status than bad. I've got nothing. Will you forgive me?
S: Forget about it. I've gotta be smurfing. It's been smurf.
P: But, but wait! Oh, is this your cell phone? It's beeping! Come back, Smurfette! You've got a text message.... from... hm... Brainy Smurf. It says "whatup, meet me bhind the smurf for a smurfjob." Whoah, total booty call. Your secret is unsafe with me, Smurfette! Damn, I'm so jealous of you, Brainy Smurf.