the stress. The pressure.

I'm going to have a nervous breakdown

in a second. I mean, what if

     it's a boy, I'll name it Anthony;

     a girl, Diana. Or maybe

you should take this pregnancy test.

Looks like you need to pee on it

or something for it to work.

Head to the bathroom and sit on

     second thought, David might

     be nice, and Paige is a pretty

terrible predicament I'm in

right now. I don't have the money

to raise a kid, you know?

And what about you? Do you think

     Roland is a good name? Or William?

     I hope it's a girl, though. Girls can have

way too many complications.

Shit, I think I'm going to hyperventilate.

How long does one of these tests take,

anyway? Three minutes? I can't

     decide if I like the name Dominique.

     Or would Victoria be a better

come up with a good story for the folks,

one that doesn't involve a friggin'

broken condom, because I can't

imagine saying "condom" to my

     favorite names are Melissa and Jennifer,

     but do I really want to use up

all my money and time on a kid?

Three minutes is up, right?

One line? One line?!

That means you're not pregnant!

     Sigh . . . Nevermind . . .