She: “I hate this kind of heroine!”
He: “Kind of a drug on the market, eh?”
She: “Say instead, like something the cat drug in. All oh woe is me, won’t some Prince Charming save me? How can anybody read this stuff?”
He [just at this moment, as if to prove that Divinity has a wry sense of humor, a truly torrential tropical downpour dumps on the house; He shouts over it]: “Well, the formula’s been around for a long time. I suppose it’s a form of addiction.”
She: “What did you say?”
He: “Addiction! Addiction!”
She: “Are you complaining about my diction?”
He: “Yeah. I can hardly understand a word you’re saying. You should use a dictionary.”
She: “Right. So my diction can err as badly as yours? And my choice of words? NOT!”
He: “I dibs my choice of knots!”
She: “And just what kind of knot would you choose?”
He: “A slip knot. One I can slip out of.”
– O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2009 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.