SUPER FAT DUDE IN A HUGE RUSH: I don’t have time for this conversation, what do you want

DIMINUTIVE FEMININE IMP: I just wanted to know how you felt today

SFDIAHR: I couldn’t really say

DFI: What about now?

SFD: Nothing has changed. I’m the same. Less busy now

DFI: Does “bumble-bee tuna” have real bumblebee meat in it?

S: Yes

DFI: What’d you do last night?

S: I was at the Miami Bart Fare

D: In New York?

S: Yeah, A-town

D: What does A-Town stand for again?

S: Nothing. That’s just the name: “A-Town”

D: It doesn’t stand for “Ass-Town” or “Andrew-Town” or something like that?

S: Nope. A = A.

D: OK… Ready to eat?

S: I ate already

D: What? We had plans!

S: And I—had Unbearable Urges.

D: Well, come sit with me and have a whiskey while I eat. I’m starving.

S: OK. Did you read Dwight Garner’s review of the Larry McMurtry’s new memoir? He quotes McMurtry’s “long held belief that age doesn’t favor the novelist.”

D: That means you should write your novel immediately. Tonight.

S: Yes. Otherwise I will get old and my “fiction” will grow pallid

D: who knows, maybe it’ll grow “pellucid”

S: Unlikely.