Uncle: Hey, Martin! Martin! Sit with me!

Martin: I gotta get on my plane.

Uncle: Where’re you flying to? Losersville? Losersville, USA? For losers?

Martin: My mother’s wake. Shouldn’t you be there too?

Uncle: I’m just here for lunch.

Martin: Well there are still open seats if you want to come.

Uncle: I’m not allowed to fly anymore. Plus I just ordered.

Loudspeaker: Now boarding flight 482 to Losersville, USA.

Uncle: Oh that’s my flight!