Scampi: I fell asleep.
Peter: I shall inform the relevant newsmedia.
Scampi: Piss off.
Scampi: It’s an expression.
Peter: A distasteful one.
Scampi: A delectable linguisto-fest, in fact.
Peter: That’s. I.
Scampi: Ding! Peter-eter, down for the count!
Peter: There is no need to howl so.
Scampi: I shan’t howl then.
Peter: Why are you speaking this way?
Scampi: I have no idea what you’re talking about.
Scampi: Hee haw. You sound like the emir in Tintin.
PETER LETS HIS RACQUET FALL.
Scampi: Can I offer you a beverage?
Peter: It appears that you have.
Scampi: Harumph. Coffee?
Peter: I acquiesce.
Scampi: You’re terribly good at that.
PETER’S FACE IS A BLANK SHEET OF SPRING RAIN.
Scampi: Well, moving right along.
Scampi: What would you say if I said my heart was broken?
Peter: I suspect you wouldn’t say that.
Scampi: That’s what you’d say?
Peter: No. I.
Scampi: What would you say?
Peter: I would. Express my sympathies, I suppose.
Scampi: Yeah, right. I doubt it.
Peter: Well. I’m glad I was able to assist you with your query.
Scampi: Thanks a lot. Why didn’t you just direct me to the reference desk?
Peter: Because I am not a library.
Scampi: I’ll say. You don’t even have a photocopying machine.
Peter: I do not. You are correct.
Scampi: And if you did, it would be cleft in twain.
Scampi: Like my heart.
Peter: Ah yes. Your heart.
Scampi: Ug. Don’t say it like that.
Peter: Like what? I have often been complimented on my excellent, above-average elocution.
Scampi: [snorts] Yeah huh. We are referring to my fiery engine red construction paper heart here. Not a lab experiment featuring amphibians.
Peter: I see.
Scampi: If only this were the case.
Peter: There’s nothing wrong with my vision.
Scampi: (That a little corrective eyewear can’t fix.)
Scampi: I have fallen asleep at a barbecue once. Did you know that?
Scampi: Well, I didn’t really.
Scampi: But I could have.
Scampi: I’m just saying, I almost fell asleep at a barbecue once. Or twice.
Peter: Well, good for you.
Scampi: I can get very sleepy. That’s all.
Peter: We have been tired. We are a tiresome race.
Scampi: What? What?
Peter: I said—
Scampi: I know what you said.
Peter: Well then.
Scampi: You want some cake or something?
Scampi: Why not?
Peter: I don’t know.
Peter: I don’t want any cake.
Peter: Thank you.
Scampi: You are terribly welcome.
Peter: How kind.
Scampi: Most certainly. With utmost amounts of certitude.
Scampi: With unscientific amounts of certitude.
Scampi: With a blind, mad degree of certainty that contradicts the whole spirit of the scientific method. With—
Peter: I think that’s quite enough.
Scampi: Enough what?
Scampi: Ho ho. You would.
Peter: I do.
Scampi: Kids used to like to lick on candy, down to a seed in their palms. You know what I’m talking about?
Scampi: Do they still do that, kids?
Peter: Why not?
Scampi: Well, why not? Why not not?
Scampi: What manners!
PETER INSPECTS HIS UNCOMPLEX HANDS.
Scampi: Ho ho.
Peter: Wait a moment. What are you saying about my hands?
Scampi: Me? I didn’t say anything.
Peter: I suspect—
Scampi: Oh, that’s a change.
Peter: This coffee is. Delicious.
Scampi: You’re kind of slow today.
Scampi: That’s okay. I am broken.
Peter: Ah yes. Your cardboard heart.
Scampi: Construction paper.
Peter: Inflammable, at any rate.
Scampi: We are.