Love Song Auditions

B: On crystallography. Pages, students, assistants,

A: Your face explicit.

B: Arggg-ho-nauts do I dream. Stopfer mine ears!

A: The time is now 12:44 E.S.T.

B: A raven doesn't think about impossibility. It does raven things.

A: The time is now 12:45 E.S.T. And thirty-three seconds.

B: The image of Catherine walking her Hermitage at night holding the candelabrum. Haunting it really. What a cocksmooch.

A: The time is now 12:45 and fifty-nine seconds.

B: Oh, I need to see Babar and have a good confession, a good soaking, a good squat, a good rebound, a good shanks and withering, a good walk through the gayborhood, a good shrug, a good Tibetan oxtail, a good prayer wheel, a good paint card to compare lights in the afterlife, a good potting, a good pleathering really, a good excuse, a good transnational bankruptcy scream, a good iceberg, a good hoodwink and ornament, a good high colonic of epistemological something or other.

A: My god. It is now 12:48. Almost 12:49. I think I smell evolution occurring.

B: My head is adjustable. I mean like Linda Blair's. Watch this. It's pretty cool.

A: Toast. I like toast.

B: I bet you like orchids on toast.

A: Sometimes. Why? Who tole you?

B: Joy.