Wednesday, May 02, 2007

night people (second of two conversations)

I repeat: an evening in bed with Palinode and Schmutzie. Entertainment, drinks, hummus, blood and ouns. Actually, no blood and ouns. Oscar the Cat leaps up on the bed, eyes wide and moony-round.

Oscar: Whuf.

Schmutzie: Oscar's worried about something. He's making that whuffing sound with his nostrils.

Oscar: Whuf.

Schmutzie: I think it's the open window. He's not used to the night sounds.

Palinode: It's Robert Palmer. He's back from the grave and he's standing outside our window, playing some choice hits.

Schmutzie: Robert Palmer is at The Grave?

Palinode: He was, but now he's back and he's got some choice hits for us.

Schmutzie: So he's come back to The Grave?.

Palinode: No, he's come back from the grave. He died. But he's outside our window now.

Schmutzie: Robert Palmer's dead?

Palinode: But his corpse has risen with a will to serve choice hits at the window.

Schmutzie: So he's at The Window?

Palinode: Night sounds.

Schmutzie: I have no idea what you're talking about.

Palinode: It's simple. The dead body of Robert Palmer has risen from his grave, and now he is outside at our window playing his choice hits, which are the night sounds that are making Oscar nervous.

Schmutzie: Oh. I thought The Grave and The Window were clubs in town and Robert Palmer was playing.

Oscar: Whuf, predictably.

4 comments:

mathew said...

whuf

(predictably)

Thomas said...

Something similar happened to me only instead of Robert Palmer returning from the dead to play choice hits outside my window it was Keith Richards failed to perish from a 1977 heroin overdose and took up residence in my filing cabinet and occasionally bakes me cookies.

Mr. Head said...

Graham Parker shows up in my parking spot occasionally, serenading me with "Hey Hieronymous", but I can't tell if he's really dead or just depressed.

Derek said...

I wand to see someone use the tag "Robert Palmer's corpse." Also, I want to see said corpse at said clubs.