As promised, we've left the sepsis-soaked and amputation-crazed era of the Civil War for a more cosmopolitan setup here on the newly minted set of History Bros. A chaise lounge was generously provided by Rooms To Go. Are they still in business? Yes? I haven't seen a commercial in, like, over a decade. Alright, well, it is a white pleather chaise lounge, so they can't be doing that well. But, we're not complaining, because currently sitting on that eyesore of a couch is none other than Gaius Julius Caesar. The famed general, statesmen, writer and eventual dictator was one of the main catalysts for the fall of the Roman Republic and the rise of the Roman Empire. He is, ironically, eating a caesar salad.
HB: OK, you're just begging for it. Why the caesar salad?
JC: Diet. Turns out drinking 8 Michelob Ultras every night will create a classic case of beer belly.
HB: You are the ancient version of a frat boy.
JC: I had my days, trying to sustain that lifestyle way after my prime. I was that guy who used to be an athletic general, but was completely oblivious to the aging process and inevitable weight gain. Michelob! I still have a few friends I can't get through to. The response is always the same: "I played D1 in Roman Legion, I still deserve respect. No, I'm not balding. I'm also not taking off my helmet."
HB: I get it. I hate to break it to you, but just like the Michelob myth, that salad is absolutely terrible for you. It's all in the dressing.
JC: Damnit!
JC: But, it's salad. It was on the healthy starters menu at John Barleycorn.
HB: John Barleycorn?
JC: I didn't say I was fully over my phase! Did you even know that I played D1 Legion... Ok, I here myself. I'm trying.
HB: I bet it's tough, man. But, still, toga parties?
JC: I wear one every day, so it's not something novel.
HB: That was less fun than I expected. Jeep Wrangler named a model after the river you famously crossed - a point of no return. Jeep Wrangler Rubicon! Hot or not?
JC: Not. It's an embarrassing.
HB: You can...totally...unzip the top. Get a breeze.
JC: It's an awful, awful car. I'd rather have a Geo Tracker.
HB: Good point, Julie. At least you could play the hipster irony card with that one. The Rubicon, there's no way around that stigma. You're the guy who owns a Wrangler. And guess what? It rained last night and you forgot to put the top back on. Your fuzzy dice smell like wet dog and your copy of Alanis Morissette's Jagged Little Pill is ruined.
HB: Alright, serious question. Did you really utter the words "Et Tu, Brute," or is this just Shakespeare taking artistic liberties?
JC: All honesty, I didn't even say a word. I passed out in about a minute, then bled out a minute later. I vomited because it hurt so f'ing much. That was the closest I cam to speaking.
HB: Grudge against Brutus?
JC: No, I'm actually happy for him. Well, I knew he was becoming "different" after he started talking about social justice, volunteering, blah blah. The real sign was his choice to focus on non-profit management in business school. All the legionnaires and senators went into finance, but this was, like, different different. Ya know? But, he's got three kids now and has a decent job as an educational administrator. He has happiness. Most of us never saw that. I have an Infiniti and an empty heart I feel with caesar dressing. God, is that really narcissistic?
HB: It is. Stop eating yourself. But, that's very noble of you to say. Still, the stabbing?
JC: Yes! They all could've easily shot me. That's just a surprise. Sure, it hurts, but you don't see it coming over and over again. Holy shit I'm about to get stabbed! Oh my god, this other senator has a knife too! Where's he going to put that one?! Oh, Jesus, my hip?! C'mon! A clean shot to the head would've been appreciated.
HB: Who wore the Caesar cut better - you or ER Clooney?
JC: Clooney.
HB: Julie, I want to sincerely thank you for coming on the show. Go eat some quinoa.
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