Tag Archives: Dialogue

Rose-Tinted

“Rose has just tinted me.”

“Texted you!”

“No, definitely ‘tinted’. Look!”

“Oh, yes, that’s a look that many would be proud of—“

“Yes…?”

“— for their grandmothers.”

Stolen, Sunk, or just Floated Away.

Where is the island?

Over there!

Where?

There! Behind the mist!

I can’t see it. Are you sure it’s there?

It was there last time I saw it!

But, what’s to say that it’s still there now?

It just is, alright?

It might have been stolen, sunk, or just floated away.

Really?

Might have.

Yes, there is a possibility, though not a probability.

I reckon it sank, without Tracey.

Sorry?

I meant, ‘without a trace’.

Yes. I can see that now.

Where?

Oh, good grief!

Mr Windlesham, I Presume?

There is one man in the waiting room, waiting.

Another man enters from the direction of the consulting rooms.

Mr Windlesham?

Yes.

and… (looks around) Mr. Pettigrew?

Yes.

Which?

Are you calling me a witch? In which case… yes.

No. I was asking— are you Mr. Whindlesham—

Yes.

—or Mr. Pettigrew?

Also, yes.

Which?

No. I’m not a witch, but you could call me Mr. Witch. If you wanted to. I won’t mind.

What was the name under ‘which’ you booked your appointment?

Yes. Charles Alexander Watt. Bachelor of this parish.

Are you being serious?

Serious is my middle name. ‘Being’ being my first.

And what, pray tell, is your surname?

Yes.

Sorry?

Being Serious Watt-Pray-Tell, at your service.

Heavens!

Yes?

Room 5

“Here you are, Mr. Binary, your room, Room 5.”

Mr. B: Oh, no! I distinctly asked not to be allocated this room number, it’s even unluckier than room one-one-o-one!

“Our room numbers don’t go up that far, Mr. Binary. We only have 20 rooms.

SD Mr. B considers this.

Mr. B: And, are you sure that nineteen pounds eighty four is the correct amount per night? Have I got that right?

“Are you related?”

“Are you related?”

“Yes, I’m very happy indeed!”

“It’s About Time!”

SD They meet

“Well, it’s about time.”

“What is?”

“This book on the subject of ‘Time’. “

“Oh!” Is it any good?”

“I got it second-hand.”

“And…?”

“I swapped it for my watch.”

“And…?”

“It helps to pass the…”

“Time?”

“Yes. And, it’s also about time-travel.”

“Sounds interesting – can I borrow it after you’ve read it?”

“Yes. I’ll pop it round to you last Thursday.”

“Okay. Can you write next week’s lottery numbers inside the back cover for me?”

“All of them?”

“Probably. 1 through to 47 should about cover it.”

“Will do.”

“Great! Thanks!”

“You’re welcome.”

“Bye!”

“Bye!”

“Until last Thursday!”

“Yup! See you then!”

SD They part.

Talking to Cats

Talking to cats

is a thing

whereby

one can at least impart your thoughts

to another sentient being

without the fear of being—

okay, I’ll rub your head, puss –

… interrupted.

“Dialogue!”

They meet.

“Ah, you are still alive.”

“I am, as you can see.”

“Yes. I rather thought that your husband had buried you underneath the patio again.”

“No. He has given up on that idea. He seems to be leaning towards the use of undetectable poisons.”

“How is he getting on with that?”

“He hasn’t found any yet.”

“Figures.”

“Indeed. Good day to you.”

“And a good day to you, too.”

They part.

“Pob-bob-bob!” said the gull.

“Pob-bob-Bob!” said the gull.

“Yes.” I replied, but it should be ‘Pob-bob-bob-bob!’ as I have ‘two’ dogs.

“Pob-bob-bob-bob!” said the gull, correcting its earlier error.

“Precisely!” I said, ‘“You’ll get it right next time.”

“Pobbbbbb!” said the gull, which really wasn’t a very nice thing to say at all.

Zorba’s Podyn

Zorba, a ficticious Greek character, was visiting his local hostelry one evening, with the dubious intention of the imbibing of their drinks, and the bending of some Greek comestibles at their recently organised ‘Night of the Greek’ – or ‘Greek Night’.

Zorba was very impressed by the authenticity of the Gyros and the frizziness of the fries, but, afterwards, when he asked for ‘Podyn!’ he was answered by some blank expressions.

“Podyn?” they asked. “We have Chocolate Cake, Cherry and Chocolate Cake, Chocolate Fudge Cale, Cherry and Chocolate Fudge Cake, or Balaclavas.”

“Don’t you mean, ‘Baklavas’ “ queried Zorba.

“We wish!” they replied. “Bit of a mix-up with the order. Although…”

“Yes…?”

“With a scoop of ice-cream…”

“Worth a try?”

“No, not really, the fluff ruins the ice-cream.”

Zorba decided to give that ‘Podyn’ a miss, opting for the Chocolate Fudge Cake.

All in all he gave the evening a 8.5 out of 10.