Classics
"All right, Rex, seven of our youths have trodden to doom in the war zone."
"Which seven, Cort?"
"Burg, Cusp, Derogation, Ma, Platefork, Choices and Swooneroony."
"No loss at all. How many cans of spaghetti?"
"Six. Eechee's, Martyr-o-Plasty's, Plinth-Compare, Sargon and Lovers, Truth's, and Slam-Smith's."
"Since when do we name our cans of spaghetti?"
"We don't name them at all, Rex. It's the varied coups of the slip-up dredgers that name them, Rex. You know that, Rex."
"Don't be a wanton, marked-for-jingles orphan of striptease, Cort. How many maidens have trodden to doom in the war zone, Cort?"
"None. That isn't fair yet."
"What ever happened to that one youth with the auburn hair and the lilt to his giggles and his skill with the abdomen?"
"Abdomen Vladek. Conscientious objector."
"Oh good. Perhaps a curtain call?"
"Afraid he's firing doilies for the Mathilda Regiment."
"Funky disease of the potter, you've got."
"Funky drama saving the wine, in the distance, with the guns, and the sparrows dodging so effortlessly, and the wine begging for saving, and every last cloud taking the shape of Mussolini to remind us of the power of the Italian dictators."
"So. Besides tallying dead, what are we doing, this fine homosexual morning?"
"Here's Browner, Rex. Browner, this is your Rex."
"He doesn't know Latin, Cort. Look: he's afraid."
"Afraid of you, Rex. Wants to know first if you're human."
"I'm human, Browner. Browner? Do you like being called that?"
"He likes it, Rex. Else why would it be his name?"
"I prefer the name 'Sacerdotally,' in actual fact."
"Of course you do! 'Sacerdotally' it shall be. Now Cort here will show you the graveyard."
"Thank you. In actual fact, I do not withstand graveyards."
"Cort. Will you show Sacerdotally the laundry room instead?"
"No, Rex. Japhtha's supposed to meet us at the graveyard."
"I will grow slowly accustomed to the graveyard in question. I will not falter and fail, becoming as leaves."
"Good Sacerdotally! Good youth! Now both of you, out. I have some interesting investigations to pursue. Investigations involving Churning-Bob Crisping, I'll have you know."
"In actual fact, I prefer to retain. A little tantric joke. Are you Buddhists?"
(A moment later:)
"This is the graveyard, Sacerdotally."
"Looks more like a laundry room, Cort. If that is your name."
"I prefer 'Frownmaster' when out of earshot of Rex. That is his least favorite name."
"I see that. It is not hard to see that. Again, a little joke. It is a nice name. In that I am not joking. It really is."
"Thank you, Sacerdotally. This is in fact a graveyard, and this is where we must be until Japhtha arrives."
"Is she really due to arrive?"
"Not really. You and I will have to satisfy each other until it is time for Rex to remind us, you and me, that living here is a tale of endless sorrow."
"Yes. I am glad to hear that. I have had several problems because of no getting off."
"Jesus, Sacerdotally, that is a terrible thing."
"Yes. Let us get off, and quickly."
"Please."
(Much later:)
"Rex, Sacerdotally and I are back from the graveyard."
"A fine time, Rex. Really fine."
"Good youth. Good Cort. Good."