Alcibiades: Socrates, you're supposed to pour your libations on the ground, not drink them till you're talking like a crazy Bacchae bitch.
Socrates: Normally, I'd be pouring libations with your spinal fluid right now, but since I'm feeling at peace with the universe I'll try to enlighten your sorry ass instead. Imagine there's this dark, underground cave.
Alcibiades: Yeah?
Socrates: And there's this rapist-motherfucker, and he's got this gimp, right, tied up in the cave. See that?
Aristotle: Okay.
Socrates: And this rapist, he's a sick motherfucker, so let's say one day he sends down a coupla pipe-hittin' negroes to cut the gimp's ear right off.
Alcibiades: Cut his ear off?
Socrates: Yeah, and gouge out his fucking eyes. Now wouldn't you say that the ear and eye are the proper receptacles of the senses of sight and hearing, respecitively?
Alcibiades: Clearly so.
Socrates: So, moreover, would you not agree that this gimp's senses are imperfect?
Aristotle: Why, yes, Socrates, I suppose they would be a trifle damaged.
Socrates: And what do things look like to someone with imperfect senses?
Alcibiades: Dark?
Socrates: No, motherfucker, nine letters, begins with "I."
Aristotle: Imperfect.
Socrates: Bingo. So you'd say this gimp, you'd say this gimp motherfucker would be unable to perceive true perfection -- but that don't mean it don't exist. Now if you brought him out of the cave, into the light, things would be less dark, and his eyes might heal a little, he might begin to see a glimmer of light, thereby gaining the idea of true perfection --
Aristotle: What kind of argument is that? Your theory of the forms rests on an arbitrary and vicious act of violence.
Socrates: [Draws his gun.] Aristotle, you're Plato's student, I respect you, but I will put fucking bullets through your heart if you don't take back what you said about me being violent now!
Aristotle: [Also drawing gun] You shoot, you'll be dining with Lord Hades tonight. I repeat. You kill me, your ass is eating pomegranite fucking casserole for the rest of eternity.
Alcibiades: Shit, man, you're acting like a bunch of fuckin' Spartans. Am I the only philosopher around here?
Socrates and Aristotle: [To Alcibiades] Shut up!
Alcibiades: Guys, guys, calm down. Look, I've got it. Let's have a symposium -- we can all drink wine and make speeches in praise of love.
Aristotle: What are you, some kind of pansy?
Socrates: Shoot that dipshit.
[Socrates and Aristotle turn in unison and shoot Alcibiades, then turn back and again aim at each other.]
Here's the funny thing. Some of my classes in law school were eerily reminiscent in the way this mashup is written up, sans the lethal weapons of course. Who doesn't remember the odd professor throwing out the occasional cuss word when a student fails miserably to answer his question. Professor would love to throw a book at student, instead he has bundles of humiliation waiting in the wings and normally it happens in front of the entire class!
Ironically, those are sometimes the best professors.
