What's Black, Blue, and Really Pale?

"Ow! Ow! Okay! You win again!!"
Kate release the painful hold on my leg. "Eat is, Bitch!"
She had already whipped Willy, who had thrust his hand in the air and declared Kate a "charlatan and vengeful goat-humper."
We all sat back on the couch, as the stereo randomly chose Michael Jackson's "Thriller" for our recovery music.
I looked over to Kate. "How's your tongue?"
She made a grimace of distaste. "I think I should have cleaned the counter better. I swear I still taste crunchy muffin bits, or maybe cereal..." She trailed off, looking over at Angie. "Coconut Cake," they said simultaneously. "How's your nuts?"
I gave a mirror-image of her grimace. "I'm gonna have them removed if you keep using the 'Monkey Pick Peaches' move."
Willy came flying down the stairs from his little sleeping section of the house. "It's Tuesday?? What the hell, man? Is it three yet?"
I looked at my bare arm. "It's about ten-til."
"Throw my boots this way!"
Angie whipped them across the room towards the stairs. Willy began lacing them up furiously. "At least biochem gets more interesting after Jack."
Willy had finished his master's last year and had been playing lab rat at the University of Minnesota ever since. He assured us, multiple times, that he would cure cancer, at least in rats. We mostly believed that he could, or he would be the cause of the next big swine flu.
He had recently broke up with his girlfriend of nearly three months. They seemed to get along, but his graphic details of drug testing on rats made her extremely agitated. Damn vegans.
He grabbed his longboard from by the door, turned, and gave an awkward, left-handed, British salute and said "Auf Weiner stain!" before running out the door.
Willy was the first friend I met when I moved to Minneapolis. We were in most of the same classes, but he had a lot more drive than I did. After graduation, he immediately jumped into grad school, practically begging the advisers to stay, instead of moving on to another university. We were all glad he did.
I met Kate on the internet, by totally random chance. That favorite social networking site really came through one night, when I wound up talking to her for about three hours. After a long discussion about ways a person could die from a noodle, we decided to be friends.
Angie came shortly after, as she was Kate under a different name, but different. We called them "The Irish Twins," not because of ethnicity, but because of the red hair, love of whiskey, and punching various objects.
We all eventually decided to get an apartment.