“It’s such a dark, moonless, spooky night tonight. I hope some homicidal maniac in a mask doesn’t pick this evening to phone me, distract me with ever-increasingly disturbing chit-chat, break in, then bone me like a fish.”
“But I bone you like a fish all the time.”
“I meant literally, Nic.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
“Ahoy-hoy.”
“Do you have Prince Albert in a can?”
“I do.”
“Oh, thank God! Y’know, I’ve been phoning all over the place for some, but all I’ve been getting is ‘We don’t have any in stock.’ or ‘We don’t carry that product.’. It calms my nerves knowing you have some, I can tell you!”
“Alright. Can I have your name and address?”
“I’m Eddie Munch. I live at 0034 Miracle Street.”
“Hey, you wouldn’t happen to be related to the kids’ author Robert Munsch by any chance, would you?”
“Nope.”
“Aw.”
“Oh hey, look, I’ve got somebody on the other line. Is it okay if I switch over for a few secs?”
“Sure, go ahead.”
“Yes?”
“Chuck Testa.”
“Well, that was certainly random.”
“Time to sit down, kick back, relax, and watch some quality porn.”
