JULIUS: Grammy! Grammy! Come quick!
GRAMMY: Lord, what’s the matter now?
JULIUS: It’s Typhus. He’s stuck!
GRAMMY: What do you mean he’s . . . ? Oh my Lord!
TYPHUS: Get me down. Please!
GRAMMY: Didn’t I tell you not to be jumping on my bed?
TYPHUS: Yeah. And I’m sorry. Now get me down.
GRAMMY: Sorry, boy. We all have to learn from our mistakes.
TYPHUS: Grammy?!
GRAMMY: See what happens when you act like a dumb twit.
TYPHUS: I see. Now get me down!
GRAMMY: Sure. No problem. But first, I’m gonna have me a smoke and a whiskey while I watch my soaps. See you in a few hours.
TYPHUS: Grammy!!!
GRAMMY: Hey, you wanted to hang out in my bedroom. So hang.
Photo: Gregor Collienne
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2 comments:
Have I told you I hope to become Grammy when I grow old? I think I need more practice.
Well, at least you have lots of years to practice.
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