GRAMMY: What’s wrong, Typhus? That medal not shiny enough for you?
TYPHUS: They only gave it to me because you made a fuss.
GRAMMY: Hey, you deserved it. You saved a hundred year-old woman from drowning in her own apartment.
TYPHUS: You know, Grammy, I been thinkin’.
GRAMMY: About what.
TYPHUS: About me. How I been wastin’ my life. I’m tired of bein’ a low-life. I want to be somebody.
GRAMMY: So who do you want to be?
ME: I don’t know. A bigshot.
GRAMMY: Well, what do you already know how to do?
TYPHUS: I can draw.
GRAMMY: Forget drawing. Artists only become famous after they die. You don’t want to wait that long.
TYPHUS: But that’s all I know how to do.
GRAMMY: Right. Think, boy! What do you do best?
TYPHUS: Lie, cheat and steal, but those won’t get me anywhere.
GRAMMY: Of course they will. Haven’t you heard of politics? Y ou get to lie, cheat and steal you way to the top. And you’ll get a huge salary for doing it.
TYPHUS: (brightening) Right! I didn’t even think of that.
GRAMMY: Not a problem. Thinking isn’t one of the qualifications.
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3 comments:
All I can say is, :)
Oh, Grammy, Grammy, Grammy...
*shaking my head and chortling at the same time*
Oh, go ahead and chortle you two. But you both know they're all as crooked as barbed wire, and not half as sharp!
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