PALS

JULIUS:  Grammy!  I’m back.

GRAMMY:  Did you get what I wanted?

JULIUS:  Uh, huh.  Six apples and six oranges.  And you were right.  Mr. Green tried to give me the smooshed ones.

GRAMMY:  You didn’t let him, did you?

JULIUS:  Unh, uh.  I told him I was gonna pick my own.  And guess what?  I made a friend.  Brian.  He’s really fun.  Can I go back out and play with him?

GRAMMY:  Sure.  Go ahead.  And take an orange for both of you.

(Julius leaves.  Grammy dials phone)

GRAMMY:  Hi Gladys.  Yeah.  It worked.  They’re here.  Now I gotta go.  I still have to call Mr. Green and I’ve got Typhus, that punk from the corner, pounding on the back door.

(hangs up)

GRAMMY:  Hold your horses!  I’m coming!

TYPHUS:  He got there and back, safe and sound.  That’ll be fifty bucks.

GRAMMY:  Here.  And remember, he’s your special project.  Nothing happens to him.  Ever.  Got it?

TYPHUS:  Got it.  See you next week.

GRAMMY:  (sigh) This has got to be the most expensive fruit I ever bought.