ed! (what?) you gotta get offa my purse! (nuh-uh.) yeah, you do--it's 7:45 already. (i'm comfy here.) ed, you could get comfy on a washboard! scramola, bud! (nope.) sonny, i'm gonna be late for work. if i'm late for work, the boss will get gripey. (so? it's not like YOU'RE not gripey. like right now. so you'll be a matched pair.) i'm gripey because you are a stubborn-stubborney, as granpa joe useta say. and if the boss gets gripey enough, he might fire me. (so? then you can stay home and i can use YOU for a mattress; you're softer than this purse, that's for sure.) ed, if i don't work, then there's no green papers. (and?) have you forgotten that green papers buy stinky goodness? and crunchies? and temptations? and . . . nip? *scramble-scramble-scramble-thump!* [cat feathers fly everywhere]
ah; i thought you'd see it my way. [walks off, muttering: damn, i wish i didn't have to go to work today]
(mom? i can fix that, y'know.)
giddouddahere!!!

