33 Words of Dialogue

Since I’m in a slump, I thought I’d try that Trifectra weekend prompt again. They wanted 33 words of dialogue, is all, which is a nice open writing prompt. But I couldn’t decide which way to go with it. So, about 2 hours before that Stupid Bowl thing starts, I need to decide. If you have a preference, please let me know. Titles to follow:

1. “Why did the chicken cross the road?”

“Because it was despondent?”

“No.”

“A hot ‘chick’ was over there?”

“No, there was a truck coming, and it didn’t want to ever hear ‘Rocketeer’ again.”

–

2. “You really live in a trailer? Feel like you’re moving all the time you’re in here?”

“My God, you’re a stupid slut.”

“I was valedictorian of my class. But you ARE half right.”

–

3. “Who in the world are you?”

“Daddy!”

“That’s a funny name for a cute little girl. You sure it’s not Edna?”

“DADDY!!”

“Again with the funny name. I would have called you Hope.”

–

4. “You seem like such a nice man. Are you my brother?”

“I’m your son, Mom.”

“It’s so nice; the people that lived here before left all these clothes. And they fit me perfectly!”

–

5. “Emerson nice hooters.”

“Ya think so? Me and Billy Ed stoled ‘em from the owl sanctyooary long down by Springdale. We looked for the ones they was just about to release.”

“Wise move.”

–

6. “Oh, my God, I’m almost there!”

“Don’t stop now!”

“Oh my God! So close. Oh no!”

“Keep going, keep going! Oh, yes!!”

“So close, oh, oh, almost!”

“There–the rummage sale is there!!

–

7. “You come here often?”

“This is a CHURCH.”

“Wondered why it was so damn quiet. And the music sucks.”

“Please keep it down.”

“That’s a nice dress.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Are you single?”

–

8. “So, God, you’re, like all powerful and all good, right?”

“Yes, my son.”

“Mind tellin’ me then how Nazis, serial killers, and some bastard turning twenty little kids into hamburger fit into that?”

—————–

Lapsing into a little anger here, so it’s time for some tunes. Tonight’s soundtrack is brought to you by one of my karaoke favorites, Mustang Sally, and by a song I barely know by Sam Cooke, an artist I barely know. Well, “black” music didn’t really get big in middle America until Motown started taking over the airwaves. Have a nice weekend. I hope the refs don’t screw up the game.