Bobby walks into the kitchen and immediately starts taking items out the fridge. Bread, cheese, meat, condiments. He places each one on the counter. He’s humming to himself to the tune of “Danny Boy.”
Bobby: "Oh Bobby boy, the press the press is calling…"
Cheryl, his wife, walks into the room wearing a cocktail dress, clearly ready for a night on the town.
Cheryl: What are you doing? You’re not even ready.
Bobby: Making a sandwich, honey. Have you seen the
bear meat? I’ve had a hankering for it ever since
I rewatched Grizzly Man.
Cheryl: We’re going out for dinner. I told you last night.
It should be in the door with the rest of
your exotic animal fixins. Next to the mustard.
Bobby: Ah yes, delightful. And relax, I’ll be ready.
Cheryl: Tonight’s really important to me.
Bobby pauses, unsure of what to say.
Cheryl: You don’t remember.
Bobby: Of course I do, it’s a fundraiser of some kind…
He trails off
Cheryl: I don’t believe you.
Bobby: It’s not me, it’s the brain worm. You know what
the doctor said about my memory.
Cheryl: You can’t keep using the brain worm as an
excuse every time I get angry. It's not fair.
Bobby: Before I forget, I know I was supposed to
endorse someone.
Cheryl: I don’t think that’s a good idea.
Bobby: Prettay, prettay, prettay bad
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