 |
Splurp
T.: I wish we could just stop for a second. So I could stand on firm ground, you know.
G.: But we're on a train.
T.: There should be, like, rest stops for trains.
G.: In the middle of the Yukon?
T.: Well, you know. For people like me.
G.: How do you mean?
T.: People who have a love affair with earth, with soil, and who feel guilty for having an affair with modern transportation.
G.: Is that so?
T.: Well, sort of, you know. I'm just -- oh, I think I'm gonna be sick.
G.: Everybody back!
W.: What can I do for --
T.: (splurp)
W.: Oh, dear God.
T.: I'm so sorry.
G.: He's really very sorry. Let me get a napkin, I'll help --
W.: No, no. I suppose I should be used to this. Working on a train, you know. You'd think.
T.: I'm sorry.
G.: He really is.
W.: No worries. Enjoy the rest of your meals. I'll just be in the, uh, head.
T.: I'm sorry!
G.: I get it now. There should be rest stops for passengers and stuff.
T.: I told you so.
| |
