The red light and warning buzzer momentarily freezes my brain. The spots before my eyes are alternating with the red flashes to the point that being able to sort out the confusion was a longer process than necessary. Finally, the logic caught up with the visual effects of alternating red bursts. The coffee machine needed a descaling.

A fate almost matching a blue screen computer event sends the message to all points of the body – NO CAFFEINE.  Reason eventually prevails, and a punch of the reset button yields one more ten-ounce cup of soothing syrup. “No more till the descale,” is the warning. Sure, sure is the thought. The event is to be forgotten for 24 more hours.

Taking a life-affirming sip of the foamy hot stuff almost causes a miss of the Ring Doorbell notification. Checking my phone shows a blurry figure obviously moving fast. Opening the front door presents a challenge. Rolling aside the chest of drawers, clicking off the deadbolts, disarming the pepper spray, unlocking the latch, removing the chains, lifting the heavy timber, and carefully moving the concertina wire, the door is ready to open.

It has to be done quickly since the creature could still be standing there. Quickly is as quickly does, and before me is a huge egg. It has lovely decorations and pastel colors. My nose tells me it is an Easter egg. The opposing mental noes try to tell me it could be a bomb. Resisting those negative thoughts, I knock on the egg with full confidence that it knows the intent of being here. The egg falls open, and inside is a lifetime supply of Jelly Bellys. There is also a note. It reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “nose/noes/knows.” Use one, use ’em all, bonus points if you use all three. Have fun!

If you want to have fun, visit Linda Hills’ blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/04/15/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-16-2022/

Nose/Noes/Knows by John W. Howell © 2022

“So you got the bonus points?”

“Yup. Put them in my Bentley Turbo account.”

“Never heard of that.”

“A Bentley Turbo? You’re kidding.”

“No, not the car. The fact that you can redeem Linda Hill bonus points for a Bentley.”

“Have you heard of anyone saying I can’t?”

“Well…No. But that’s not the point.”

“What’s the point?”

“You thinking you can take something as worthless as a Linda Hill bonus and converting it to a $300,000 car.”

“I don’t see what you are getting at.”

“Those bonus points are made up. There’s no market for them.”

“Like bitcoin?”

“Huh?”

“Show me a bitcoin.”

“I can’t. They are digital units of exchange.”

“Uh-huh. You have any?”

“No, they are too expensive.”

“So, what makes you believe they exist?”

“There is an exchange. They are traded. Everyone knows that.”

“So if I tell you there is a Linda Hill Bonus Point Exchange, you’ll admit they have value?”

“Uh, I guess so, but my nose tells me you are making that up.”

“So I can get rid of your noes, call this number.”

“Why?”

“To speak to someone on the Linda Hill Bonus Point Exchange.”

“For heaven’s sake. Never mind. I believe you. It’s not worth the trouble. I’ll just humor your fantasy.”

“Suit yourself. I’m going to the bar.”

“Your turn to buy.”

“I have a bonus point.”

“What does that  mean?”

“I’m going to buy our beer with a bonus point. I have to warn you, though.”

“About what?”

“One bonus point is worth 500 beers.”

“Can you get change?”

“Sadly no.”

“Oh my, what a dilemma. Whatever shall we do with 500 beers?”

“A believer.”

 

How to begin this week’s post is a conundrum. A start with a cup of coffee is always a smart thing. While waiting for the magic machine to pump out the life-giving elixir, contemplation can occur. Perhaps a mnemonic device is needed. Maybe a nonsensical phrase will work. How now, brown cow comes to mind. A rejection that phrase comes quickly since it provides no stimulus at all.

The coffee is ready, and so is the tone on my cell phone, indicating an incursion into the optical monitoring space on the front porch. The image on the phone is blurred, which then necessitates a physical check at the front door. Throwing back the deadbolt, turning the electronic lock to open, raising the steel bar, disengaging the electrical shock guard, the front door is ready to open.

A final check through the peephole indicates the porch area is vacant. The situation seems safe to open the door. Hand on the knob and a gentle tug inward exposes the inside to the outside. In the brightness of the sunlight, an image stands ready to engage.

“Have you seen that wascally wabbit?”

Yes, how it happened is a mystery, but before stands Elmer Fudd, shotgun and all. My question tumbles out of my mouth. “How did you get here?”

Fudd just stands there and blinks. There is reason to believe he has no idea how he got here either. He finally hands me a note and says, “Tell that wabbit I’m on his twail.” A nod from me, and Elmer turns and walks away.

The note is predictable and still leaves me with the question, How does Linda Hill get these things into these characters’ hands? Here is what it says. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “how.” Use the word “how” in your post. Bonus points if you start your post with it. Enjoy!

If you want to participate, you can go to Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/04/08/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-april-9-2022/

How by John W. Howell © 2022

“We have to make this short.”

“Why?”

“Cause you ate up all the time with that stupid Elmer Fudd story.”

“I thought it was cute.”

“Cause you own this dump.”

“What side of the bed did you get up on?”

“How I get out of bed has nothing to do with anything.”

“Your bed is against the wall, right?”

“How did you know?”

“Just a wild guess given your reaction to my get out of bed question.”

“Let’s forget the bed, okay? I can’t believe how you divert the discussion.”

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

“Ever hear of beer.”

“Your one-track obsession, you mean?”

“Better than messing up a perfectly good prompt.”

“How did I mess it up? I started the post with the word “how” and used it.”

“Dragging that poor character in kicking and screaming.”

“He was on the porch.”

“You really believe this stuff don’t you?”

“What choice do I have?”

“Buying me a beer is a great alternative.”

“Okay, but it is just an experiment.”

“Of what.”

“To see if beer is a better alternative to fiction.”

“You admit it then?”

“Sure. By the way, can Elmer come too?”

“Gad. You are buying. Bring anyone you want. Let’s just go.”

 

 

Some mornings the wait for the 10 oz cup of salvation can be agonizing. It may be a matter of not sleeping well or too late to hit the rack. Whatever the reason, standing like a monk with a begging bowl, bed hair shadow casting, blinking sand-filled eyes is not a good look.

Eventually, the steaming brew is brought full measure, and only the heat keeps it from being consumed like a beer bong on spring break. It arrives just as the end of the emotional rope is metaphorically reached. With shaking hands, the libation is raised to the lips, and a small sip is accompanied by an imaginary Young Frankenstein-like yell of “It’s alive.”

Brain finally engaged, it is time to turn to the business of the day. It is Saturday, after all, and by tradition, something mystifying will be found in the yard. Checking the Ring doorbell camera brings a satisfying all, clear in the scope of vision.

Then a sound like the TV has been left on reaches my ear. Looking into the backyard, a bright yellow cartoon canary is sitting on the fence. Opening the rear door, “I tot I saw a puddy tat,” message is clearly understood. Yes, it is true Tweety Bird is sitting on my fence. If so, Sylvester can’t be far away.

A tap on my shoulder sends me and my coffee into a ten-foot altitude record. Carefully positioning my cup captures most of the live-giving fluid as we hit the ground. “Excuthse me, sir, but I have a messssthage from Linda Hill.”

Having never met Sylvester before, the fact that he is six feet tall was totally unappreciated by me. He handed me a piece of wet paper, and he and Tweety disappeared.

The message reads: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “rope.” Use it as a noun or a verb. Have fun!

If you would like to have fun, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. /https://lindaghill.com/2022/03/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-26-2022/

Rope by John W.Howell © 2022

“So you did it again.”

“What?”

“Brought in a couple of cartoon characters and then dropped them.”

“No, I didn’t drop them.”

“What was the point?”

“They carried the prompt.”

“Why did they say so little?”

“Had to keep within SAG rules. More dialogue equals more money.”

“You pay them?”

“What do you think?”

“Yeah, that’s right. You write fiction.”

“Bingo.”

“What about the prompt?”

“Have you had enough?”

“Good point. I’m at the end of my rope.”

“And ready for a nice cold beer.”

“You could rope me in for that.”

“So now we have taken care of the prompt and can go.”

“No sweeter words were ever spoken.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“Given the circumstances, if you were me, you would.”

“You’re buying.”

“Gladly. Let’s go.”

 

 

 

Walking toward the coffee maker in the kitchen, a flash out of the corner of my eye caused me to look out the window into the backyard. Sure enough, something had fallen onto the turf. Not wanting to hallucinate, the decision is made to get coffee and then investigate the object.

The machine did its thing, and after several sips of the frothy caffeine-laden liquid, it was time to venture to what should be an astounding discovery. Reaching for the rear doorknob, a text message on my phone caused a momentary distraction. It was a text from the Bellagio Hotel and Casino in Las Vegas. They offer to comp a room for five nights provided; I bring bags of money to “invest.”

Setting the text aside in my mind, the problem of what landed in the yard had to be addressed. Being cautious out of fear of three-dimensional cartoon characters, the approach to the object could only be described as serpentine. Finally reaching what appears to be a pile of fabric, it occurs that this cannot be connected to cartoons and looks like a banner towed behind an airplane. Unrolling the banner took some energy and space. It was a huge message from Linda Hill. (of course) When finally unrolled, it said. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “comp.” Find a word that starts with or contains “comp” and use it in your post. Enjoy!

If you would like to enjoy, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is to join this group. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/03/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-19-2022/

Comp. by John W. howell © 2022

“Where did the complicated banner come from?”

“I have no idea. I think it fell off the back of an airplane. Maybe the attachment was compromised.”

“It is a complex situation. ”

“You are unusually complimentary today.”

“I only mean that it is hard to comprehend a banner falling into the yard.”

“I think to complete the prompt, that’s the only thing that could happen.”

“I guess you are right. The action has to be compatible with the post.”

“I’m glad you can comprehend that fact.”

“Compassion is my middle name.”

“I’m worried that you would use compassion as a component of your understanding.”

“It just is one of the comprised emotions.”

“You have other companions?”

“Yeah, like compensate.”

“What do you mean, compatriot?”

“Skip the comp words, and let’s go drink. You’re buying.”

“Compulsiveness, I love it. Let’s go.”

“That’s the last one, right?”

“Completely.”

 

 

A leisurely Saturday is usually de rigor. There is no trip to the store purposely planned for the day. Coffee brewing and the memory of a carrot chomping bunny way in the past ensure the day’s outlook looks hopeful. With cup in hand and a check of the Ring, camera gives me the assurance that the day will go as expected. Several sips into the hot steaming stuff and an alert hits my phone. “An object has been detected on the front porch.” This is very strange since most alerts call for a person detected.

Wishing and hoping the so-called object is not a cartoon character, the unlock the front door series. Three minutes later, facing me on the porch is Pepe Le Pew holding what appears to be a black cat in advanced stages of panic. Her eyes beg for help as Pepe continues to shower her with kisses.

I smile. “How may I help you?”

Pepe takes his eyes off the cat and looks at me. “Uh-huh, monsieur. Thees lovely creature, and I have a message from Linda Hill. Can you reach into my back pocket and get it?” The cat made every effort to get away, but Pepe’s hug was secure.

The message is indeed sticking out of Pepe’s pocket. A quick snatch, and it is mine. Meanwhile, the cat manages to slip out of Pepe’s hold and makes a break for the woods. Pepe takes off after her leaving me to open the message.

Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “trip.” Use it any way you’d like. Have fun! This is all it read.

If you want to have fun, visit Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link.

/https://lindaghill.com/2022/03/11/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-march-12-2022/

Trip by John W. Howell © 2022

“I don’t get these cartoon characters.”

“What’s not to get?”

“I mean, as long as you are doing these pitiful intros, why not do something exciting.”

“Like what?”

“A trip to outer space or out west even. Anything but these one-dimensional cartoons.”

“Oh, stop. Weren’t you ever a kid?”

“Yeah, but I grew up.”

“Maybe you had a bad experience with cartoons.”

“No. I’m older and have given over to older things.”

“Like what?”

“Er. Movies and drama.”

“Okay. Do you ever get a laugh?”

“With comedies, yes.”

“Adult comedies?”

“I suppose.”

“Did you ever really take a look at the themes in the Warner Brothers cartoons?”

“Well, no.”

“You should cause most are adult themes. Take Pepe, for instance.”

“Okay.”

“The poor cat had some paint spilled on her, and Pepe mistakes her for a skunk.”

“Yeah, so?”

“He falls hard for her, but in her case, not so much.”

“I get that.”

“So the story. Boy meets girl and falls in love. Girl not interested. How many times has this been a theme in your world?”

“Hey. Let’s not get personal. You mean in my entertainment world?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I see what you are saying. Why don’t you have a picture of the character at least?”

“Cause I think the reader knows exactly what that picture will look like and no need.”

“Still.”

“Besides, the pictures are copyrighted and require a royalty.”

“The real reason comes to light.”

“Maybe. I know something that is royalty-free.”

“I hope it is barley pop.”

“Yup. You buy it, and I drink it.”

“A trip to the pup is next.”

“Lead the way.”

After a decent night’s rest and a strong cup of coffee, the belief that permeates my thoughts is all the weird situations with Wilie E. Coyote have ended. The silence of the yard seems to confirm my conclusion. There is no little “beep-beep,” screeching, or implosion of a falling box as it terminates on the ground. But, just to be sure, a quick check of the Ring camera is in order. As I reach for my phone, a tone indicates something has entered the visual field. Looking at the screen reveals two grey upright things that look like plants.

Obviously, someone has placed something on the porch below the camera’s full view. This will require opening the front door to find out what is there. Having been burned in the past, it comes to me to use the speaker mode of the Ring camera to determine if anyone or anything is out there. “Hello,” I say.”

“Hello yourself, Doc,” is the reply.

The response causes me to ask about twenty questions answered with the simple phrase, “Open the door.”

A long sigh is followed by unlocking the deadbolts, releasing the chain, lifting the metal bar, and rolling the cage to the side. The door is opened to reveal a grey rabbit with white markings munching on a carrot. “What’s up, doc?”

The theme from Loony Toons goes through my head as the rabbit hands me an envelope. He indicates that I should open it and when I do, a letter floats out. The letter is from Linda Hill and reads. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “rest.” Use it any way you like. Enjoy!

The rabbit continues to stand there looking at me, munching his carrot. If you would like to participate in this frivolity, visit Linda’s blog and read how. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/02/25/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-26-2022/

Rest by John W. Howell © 2022

“So you have started again?”

“What?”

“A cliff-hanging story.”

“Well, there is only so much reader attention time available.”

“Someone said that ever since you give up Wednesday Story Day, you’ve been writing these short preambles to the Saturday prompt.”

“Probably right. I miss the Storytime.”

“Why don’t you start again.”

“Time.”

“Come on. You don’t have anything to do all day.

“Blogs, emails, and novels. Nah, nothing at all.”

“Self-imposed.”

“I’ve heard that before. I still need to rest sometime, though. Not getting any younger.”

“Oh boohoo. So what’s with the rabbit? You seem focused on Warner Brothers.”

“I can’t help what is out there.”

“Turn around.”

“Why?”

“I want you to see there is no one behind you. You are it. Anything out there you create.”

“Do tell. If true, then the pub is my creation, too, right?”

“Yes indeed.”

“So if I say free drinks, that’s the way it is?”

“Yup. In fact, I would encourage you to do just that.”

“Free drinks. Last one there has to buy lunch.”

“Good job. Of course, you could create a free lunch too.”

“Give it a rest.”

“Gotcha.”

 

 

“Whatever,” I say out loud. The thought that the box is still in the driveway makes me want to go back to bed. But unfortunately, the call of the caffeine god turns me in the direction of the kitchen. As the cup finishes brewing, plans begin to form regarding what to do with that box. The appearance of Wile E. Coyote last week did nothing to aid in its removal. For all I know, the Canis latrans has moved into the box, is my troubling thought.

Taking a sip of the hot steaming stuff as I move toward the front door gives me the courage to open it. Stepping out onto the drive and close to the box, I gently rap on its side. Cocking my head to pick up even the slightest sound, I rap again. The wind in the trees seem to mock my apprehension, for it was the only audio detected.

A tap on my butt causes my natural instincts to kick in involuntarily. I can not explain how I got onto the top of the box and am now looking down at a smiling Wile E. Coyote. My coffee is mysteriously still in the cup clutched in my right hand. My mind drifts from concern about Wile and the box to wondering about the fact that the coffee remains intact.

I am brought back to reality when Wile asks if I would open the box. “Open the box?” I say. Wile explains that there is a latch on top and all I had to do was flip it open. I see the latch and flip it. The sides of the box fold out, and the top, including me, falls to the ground. The five-foot fall does nothing for my mood, nor does the fact that I am looking at a transparent ball just slightly smaller than the box. On the side of the ball is a stenciled logo that reads, “ACME Runner Ball. Be Ten Times Faster.”

Wilie gives me a thumbs up and opens a small door on the side of the ball. He climbs in just as that honking and screeching sound reaches my ears from behind. Turning around, I’m treated by another road runner visit and another note in its beak. I take the message, and the roadrunner runs off. Wilie starts running inside the ball and quickly catches up to the roadrunner. They both disappear around the corner, and I’m left with a note and a wooden box. The box will have to be chopped up. The message said the following Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “whatever.” Use the word “whatever” any way you’d like. Bonus points if you start your post with it. Have fun! If you want to have fun, go to Linda Hill’s blog and read how easy it is. Here is the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/02/18/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-19-2022/

Whatever by John W. Howell © 2022

“I don’t know what to say.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been two weeks, and the box has a stupid ball inside.”

“Looks that way.”

“Why couldn’t it have been something exciting?”

“Like what?”

“A rocket or motorized anvil. Anything but a ball.”

“I don’t know. I think a ball that lets you run faster is a pretty interesting thing.”

“At least tell me if Wilie caught the roadrunner?”

“I have no idea. They went around the corner.”

“Can’t you make something up?”

“I could, but I am not going to do that.”

“Why?”

“Has Wilie ever gotten the better of the roadrunner?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“So what makes you think I can invent a scenario where that happens.”

“I see what you mean. That would be taking fan fiction liberty.”

“Right. And to what end?”

“Would make a good story.”

“And nice lawsuit from Warner Brothers.”

“Well, there is that. Okay, I give up. Time to head to the pub.”

“You know we end this feature every week at the pub. So let’s do something different.”

“Like what?”

“How about the museum.”

“You are kidding me now, right?”

“It would be different.”

“Wait a minute. The fact that it is your turn to buy is not influencing your quest to be different, is it?”

“I am a little short this week.”

“I’ll buy then.”

“Dump the museum idea. Let’s go.”

‘

The alarm came from somewhere far away and entered my consciousness like a bolt from a crossbow. I’m trying hard to turn it off before another bolt out of the blue finds its mark. Silence is golden, and the only sound now is the cracking of my knees as I make motions to begin the day.

Getting to the coffee reminded me of someone crossing the arctic ice in their bare feet. It’s hell to get old, is the thought of the morning. But, the aroma of the brewing cup brought a new thought, it’s great to be alive.

A few sips and the memory bell rang its Westminster chime. The tune accompanied a lyric, ‘Is the box still on the driveway from last week?’ Rushing to the front door for a look, I was crestfallen. (I still don’t know where my crest is) To help my dubious fortune, the box is still there. Now, you may wonder why it took a week to discover the status of the box? You see, in the age of COVID, I have become a virus recluse. “No use going to the front of the house if I’m not going anywhere” is my motto.

I carefully opened the door and walked out to the box. To give you an idea of its size, it was a perfect cube that came up to my shoulder. So that makes it about five feet cubed. While I was looking for clues on who I could call to get rid of it, I felt a tap on my backside. Turning around, I came face to face with a coyote. One that was standing on his hind legs and holding out a card. I took the card and glanced at it. ‘Wile E. Coyote Esq.’ was the only thing printed on it. The card was embossed and had a high cotton content level, but I digress.

“Pleased to meet you,” I said. “When are you going to take possession of this box?”

He looked at me. I looked at him. He made a rotation gesture with his hand. I didn’t catch his meaning until he pointed at the card. I flipped it over, and on the back was written. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “fortune.” Use it any way you’d like. Enjoy!

If you want to ‘enjoy,’ visit Linda’s post and read how easy it is. Here is the link.

https://lindaghill.com/2022/02/11/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-12-2022/

Fortune by John W. Howell ©2022

“Here, we took all that time and still don’t know what’s in the box.”

“Well, it takes a while to give all the information.”

“Like the freaking card is made of cotton?”

“High cotton content.”

“Whatever. What was the bit about your crest?”

“That word always makes me wonder. So I looked it up one time, and its origins may be that when roosters don’t feel well, their crest folds over.”

“No one cares. We want to know what is in that box.”

“I would love to tell you, but I don’t know. Maybe a fortune teller could help you out.”

“So you bring in that stupid cartoon coyote?”

“Always good for a laugh.”

“You a stand-up comic now?”

“No, but humor is one element of a story.”

“And the other is telling us what is in the box.”

“Okay, it is dynamite.”

“Really?”

“No. I don’t know.”

“Why’d you say dynamite?”

“To get you to think of something else.”

“Like what.”

“Your turn to buy.”

“Not till I know what’s in the box.”

“I’ll buy then.”

“Forget the box. Let’s go.”

“You are so easy it scares me.”

“Smart, though. My brains are my fortune.”

“A small fortune indeed.”

 

 

Gazing at my watch convinced me to stay inside this morning. The temperature is below freezing, and the wind chill is in the teens. This is not a day to consider opening the front door. Getting settled with a hot cup of coffee and my trusty Apple, I was looking forward to a productive day of writing. That is when the sound of something hitting the roof caused me to jump.

The coffee was dripping behind me as I ran across the floor to the window. The cold of the glass caused my breath to fog the view. I couldn’t see what was lying in the driveway. Clearly, whatever it was had first impacted the roof and then come to rest out there.

There was no choice but to open the door and enter the deep freeze. Oh sure, I could have left the item laying there till spring, but what fun is there in that? Besides, not knowing what it is would make this a brief post.

Suitability outfitted with the latest winter gear, I undid the deadbolt and made one small step for knowledge. With the ice crunching under my feet, I arrived at the object. A quick investigation determined a box addressed to Wile E Coyote in care of my address. Feeling somewhat put out, I decided to simply leave the box where it was, and if Mr. Coyote wants to get it, he will need to swing by and pick it up.

Turning to go back inside, I heard a horn sound followed by the sound of a panic stop. Looking down, there was what appeared to be a drawing of a roadrunner with a printed page from an e-mail in its mouth. Taking the page, I could see it was a prompt from Linda Hill. Here’s what it said. Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “page.” Use it as a noun or a verb. Have fun! If you want to join in this fun, go to Linda’s blog and read how easy it is. Here’s the link. https://lindaghill.com/2022/02/04/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-feb-5-2022/ 

The horn sounded again, and with a swishing sound, the bird was gone.

Page by John W. Howell © 2022

“Don’t you dare leave us hanging like that.”

“Like what?”

“We want to know what’s in the box.”

“Who are we? I only see you.”

“Never mind. What’s in the box?”

“I have no idea.”

“Come on. You are writing this trash. Tell me.”

“You saw where I walked away, right?”

“Yeah, but you must know what’s inside.”

“I didn’t open it.”

“Arrrgg. Okay then. Let me ask a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Your question?”

“Why would you bring in something that was supposed to be delivered to Wile E. Coyote yet shows up on your driveway.”

“Simple.”

“Uh, go ahead.”

“It sets up a story for the next time.”

“I get that, but why can’t we have the story now?”

“No time. I ran out of available words. In fact, folks are starting to hit “like” and move on even as we speak.”

“What, folks?”

“Fourth wall, folks. Right out there.”

“OMG. I never saw them before.”

“Behave then.”

“H-how do we get out of this mess?”

“We get on the same page. You offer to buy the beer, and we exit stage left.”

“I’m buying.”

“Let’s go.”

“Don’t we need to do the soft shoe or anything?”

“You can if you wish.”

“No, let’s just go.”

“After you, my man. Page the bartender and tell her to set ’em up.”

“Page?”

“Never mind, I was just taking another kick at the prompt.”