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Sister-vs-brother-style
E.: Twenty-one.
J.: Twenty-one what?
E.: Years. Twenty-one years.
J.: Twenty-one years what?
E.: Twenty-one years I've been torturing you. You know. Sister-versus-brother-style.
J.: Oh. Yeah. ... Oh! Has it been twenty-one?
E.: As of today, precisely twenty-one.
J.: You're sure?
E.: Absolutely.
J.: I suppose I should give you something.
E.: I suppose you should.
J.: I shouldn't give you anything more than a headache. I mean: that's what you've been giving me for twenty years.
E.: Twenty-one.
J.: Right. Twenty-one.
E.: Maybe you should get me drunk.
J.: That wouldn't be proper. I mean: I get girls drunk, you know what happens next.
E.: Oh. Right. And I'm your sister, of course.
J.: Yes, it could be a little traumatic.
E.: You would apologize, of course.
J.: I mean: traumatic for me.
E.: How did the conversation turn this way?
J.: You started it.
E.: Right.
J.: So.
E.: So.
J.: Twenty-one.
E.: Twenty-one.
J.: Will you party?
E.: I will party. I will party so heartily.
J.: Speaking of which: when we were kids, was everyone saying 'party hearty' or 'party hardy' or 'party harty'? I never could figure it out.
E.: I think they were saying 'party hardy'.
J.: You'll have to spell it. They all sound the same to me.
E.: H-a-r-d-y.
J.: ... Naw. Couldn't be. I mean: that's stupid.
E.: It is.
J.: Right.
E.: ... Twenty-one.
J.: Will you have a good time?
E.: I will get down and boogie and play that funky music til I die.
J.: Good. ... But wait, if you die, how will you turn the music off?
E.: What?
J.: You said you would play the music til you die. Will you turn it off as you're dying?
E.: Yes.
J.: But you said 'play that funky music til I die'. If you turn it off while you're dying, you're turning it off early. A bit.
E.: I will lay down and boogie and play that funky music til I'm dying.
J.: Wait, wait. You said 'lay down' this time.
E.:
J.: I'm just saying.
E.: Well.
J.: Well.
E.: Twenty-one.
J.: Twenty-one. Yeah.
E.:
J.:
E.: Okay, so now what?
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