We're in the grocery store buying things. Things like candy and aftershave and milk.
Mr. Happy Puppet Head is debating whether or not to get black liccorice. We always have this big long debate on whether or not to buy it since both of us hate black liccorice, but feel bad about it. We wish we liked it, but we just don't. We hate it. Maybe it's an aquired taste, so we keep buying it. And buying it. Yet we still hate it.
Maybe this time will do the trick.
Hey Mr. Happy Puppet Head, isn't that the actress from "Disability in the Living Room?" The pretty girl in the red dress. Yeah, she's wearing sweat pants and a t-shirt now, but I think it's the same girl. She was great, what with the unhinging of her jaws and everything.
You're right, I should talk to her. I already know her, so it shouldn't be difficult to strike up conversation. Okay, here goes.
Hey, remember me? Hi. Yeah, sorry. You look great. Yeah... don't worry about it.
My boots suddenly are squeaking very loudly on the grocery store tiles. And my goggles get all foggy.
Yeah, I understand... okay. Yeah, see you later. Hey! Here's my number. Call me sometime, or something. Alright. Alright. Okay, bye.
Mr. Happy Puppet Head aks how it went and I just look at how my hands are shaking. I should've gotten her number. Oh well.
Black liccorice it is.