Tag Archives: Dialogue

He said, ‘Does the monkey mind?”

He said, ‘Does the monkey mind?’

And the organ-grinder replied, ‘How should I know, he’s the brains of this outfit.’

Beyond Belief

“That leaf… said Bee,

‘… is the exact same leaf

that fell upon my head last year.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ said Butterfly,

‘it can’t be, Bee…’

Bee liked Butterfly, and didn’t want to appear to argue.

‘No. I suppose it cannot be, for that would almost be beyond bee leaf!’

Butterfly groaned at Bee’s pun, and took her leave.

Mordor – on the Orient Express.

At the London ticket office.

‘No, you can’t get a ticket to Mordor – this train only goes to Venice.’

‘Venice? Can we change there for Mordor?’

‘You can certainly try.’

The lady with the purple hare

“I’m looking for the lady with the purple hare:?

“Have you lost her?”


“Ah. Okay. Still no.”

“Okay, thanks anyway.”

“You’re welcome.”

Grace Darling


What is it, Grace, darling?

What sort of bird are we?

I think that we are called, ‘starlings’, my dear.


Is there a problem, Grace?

No. I just wanted to grow up and be a kingfisher.

Ah, the fisher king – such a fine colouring, almost as beautiful as yours, Grace.

Beautiful? I am a dull shade of slate grey.

Not when you are in the sunlight, Grace; then you are without doubt the most beautiful of all birds.



Jack Daw

‘The’ Jack Daw,

in person,

no doppelgängers,

or lookie-likies,

to confuse the issue.

“Where shall we eat?”

I ask, politely,

mindful of my manners.

“Here! Now!”

cried Jack,

in his coarse voice.

We ate, and conversed little –

such was the fine fare on offer –

and then, rudely,

I would say;

Jack just flew away:

Offering: a Conversation

So, what’s that then?

It’s an offering to the gods.

What that?


The knob end of your pasty?

Sorry, I meant it’s an offering to the gulls.

Oh, now that makes a bit more sense.


SFX Echoing Gull squawk

I’m Coping

I’m Coping.

Glad to hear it.

No, Professor Cecilia Coping, late of the University of Somewhere or Other.

Ah! We haven’t been expecting you.

That’s okay, I haven’t been expecting myself, either.

“What did you say?”

So, what did you say?

What could I say?

Couldn’t you have said something like, ‘It always comes right in the end!’

I could have done. But, that’s not the sort of thing that I would say.

What is the sort of thing that you would say?

Well… I might mention the weather… or the— well, the weather, mainly. It’s easier.

It never rains, but it pours.


It never rains, but it pours.

So you said – and I said, ‘What?’

It’s a proverb, based upon the weather, that implies when there is a problem there are lots of problems – or that the problem is ‘huge!’


Why, ‘Oh’?

Well, it looks like it might rain later today.

So we’d better batten down the hatches.

If that’s the sort of thing that needs doing, why not do that?

I think I shall. Bye!


The Postman Delivers (to Binary Lane)

Postman: I have a parcel for 1,000 Binary Lane – I’ve never delivered there before.

Postmaster: It’s the fourth one up on the right – at the end.

Postman: Fourth?!

Postmaster: Well, it is Binary Lane.