Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71843 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Jory: I suspect that he likes the pliability of them. My further conjecture is that he––
Sam: Conjecture?
Jory: Kola has us using a new word every day. Putting it into our vocabulary. He says it’s important to expand one’s mind.
Sam: Jesus. Okay. So you give twist ties to the crows.
Jory: To one of them, yes. I give them both popsicle sticks, but only after I wash them.
Sam: Of course, otherwise they’d be sticky.
Jory: Exactly.
Sam: So who gets the twist ties?
Jory: I give them to Odin but not Loki. Loki doesn’t deserve twist ties after what he did to the bird feeder and the corn I put out for the squirrels, on their wheel thing.
Sam: I’m already regretting asking this, but what did Loki do?
Jory: He thought it would be very funny to take one of the cobs of corn off the wheel and put it in the hole on the birdhouse so the sparrows and the larks and the chickadees couldn’t get back inside to the food.
Sam: Okay.
Jory: And then of course the squirrels went looking for their corn and found it in the birdhouse, and a couple of them were trying to pull it out with all the small birds diving at their heads, and it was a mess.
Sam: I see.
Jory: And then Garth lost his head in the ruckus.
Sam: Because?
Jory: Honestly, it’s poor craftsmanship, because it turns out his head and body aren’t one piece. His head was simply hot-glued to his body.
Sam: Which is why it fell off.
Jory: No, it got knocked off when the squirrel flew into it.
Sam: You mean the crow flew into it.
Jory: It had to be the force, because his head hit the window.
Sam: The crow?
Jory: Oh God, no. Why would you think that? That would’ve been so sad.
Sam: The squirrel?
Jory: What kind of horror show are you imagining?
Sam: Wait.
Jory: Garth was beheaded by the squirrel.
Sam: Ah. Okay. The squirrel that flew off the corn cob wheel because it was unbalanced.
Jory: Of course it was unbalanced, Loki took the cob. Are you even listening to me?
Sam: Sadly, yes.
Jory: What is that supposed to mean?
Sam: Jesus. Okay, so the flying squirrel––
Jory: Even though there are, in fact, flying squirrels in Illinois, it was just a regular one, which is why it hit the scarecrow instead of gliding over to it or something.
Sam: Which again, is when Garth got beheaded.
Jory: I fixed him, or tried to, but I did it by using the twist ties from the kitchen drawer.
Sam: Uh-huh.
Jory: Well, you can imagine how that went over with Odin.
Sam: Because he collects the twist ties.
Jory: Yes. And Loki’s better at untwisting them and pulling them through the rustic twisted vine that the scarecrow is made out of, and then poor Garth loses his head again, and every time it falls off, it scares Odin.
Sam: So now you have to take Odin his own pack of ties.
Jory: I do.
Sam: Okay. My fault totally. The question was what again?
Jory: Are you living a meaningful life?
Sam: Yes. I keep you from being killed by people who don’t love you and therefore could never have the patience to hear the whole story.
Jory: Stop messing around and answer the question.
Sam: I just did.
Jory: Do it seriously.
Sam: Yes. I protect and serve as a marshal, and I take care of my family, and I have no doubt that Kola and B have a lot to offer the world in general in the future.
Jory: Awww.
Sam: And you?
Jory: Sam, these questions aren’t for me.
Sam: Just say.
Jory: Well, I think like you do about our children, but I also think that every day we put some love out into the world, that makes it better and that is meaningful.
Sam: Good.
NUMBER TWO:
What’s the one thing you can’t live without?
Sam: My family.
Jory: That’s nice.
Sam: You?
Jory: Same.
NUMBER THREE:
Do you believe in true love?
Sam: Clearly.
Jory: Me too. Gimme a kiss.
NUMBER FO—
Jory: You know what, I’m just gonna read these. Okay?
Sam: That kiss fried your brain.
Jory: What? No.
Sam: I like you all breathless and out of it. You keep licking your lips too. I must taste really good.
Jory: I don’t—next question.
Sam: Hit me.
Jory: Scoot over.
Sam: How’s this?
Jory: Further.
Sam: Now?
Jory: Just—this is serious. How am I expected to concentrate when you’re—
Sam: When I’m what?
Jory: Don’t make your voice all sultry.
Sam: I have no idea what that means.
Jory: Yes, you do. You know precisely what you’re doing.
Sam: Yes, sorry. Okay.
Jory: Look where your hand is?
Sam: Give me the laptop.
Jory: Annoying man.
Sam: Yeah, you love me.
Jory: It’s true. Okay. What do you want your final words to be?
Sam: Don’t lick the cat!
Jory: Sam!
Sam: What? I’ll be yelling at my grandkids.
Jory: Ugh.
Sam: And you?
Jory: I love you.
Sam: Who will you be saying that to?
Jory: You, idiot.
Sam: Me? I’ll be long dead.
Jory: Please. You’re ten times healthier than I am.
Sam: Which brings me back to the subject of the treadmill.