“Hey Mel,” Buddy said, twisting his mouth down on the right side, “the way I see it, you don’t need a frying pan. Just go outside in August and crack an egg over your head.”
“Cheap shot, Buddy,” Rob said. “We need better material for Saturday’s show.”
“Who said that was for Saturday’s show? Anyway, guys. Pickles wants to go on vacation in July. And she wants a new outfit, and new shoes. Where should I take her? Rob, where’d Laura get her latest dress? Help me out here, I’m desperate.”
Rob spread his arms out like an umpire calling it safe. “I’m not getting in the middle of that, Buddy.”
“I will, old boy,” Sally said. “Take her to Coney Island.”
“Too chintzy.”
Mel added, “You can take her to Cleveland.”
“Too smelly.”
“All right, Buddy,” Rob said, “take her to the Smithsonian in Washington.”
“What about right here in good old New York?” Buddy asked.
“That’s right, old boy,” Sally said. “Shop around until you get the answer you want.”
No comments:
Post a Comment