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"You are laughing so hard, you woke me up.
Did my early bird get me a latte?"
"...Oh, I'm sorry, Paul. Blame it on Marcel DuTramp.
He sat with me this morning. We shared
a Decadent Chocolate Cookie."
"And that's why you were laughing?"
"No. He introduced me to a friend from the Jetty."
"What's so funny about that?"
"The friend said he was a teacher who was named
after a truckdriver. He said he would rather have been
a truckdriver who was named after a teacher
then I really would have made some real money!"
SHE STARTS LAUGHING AGAIN
"That's not very funny."
SHE STOPS LAUGHING
"No. You're right. It isn't. It was the other things
he said–him and Marcel–that had me in stitches
but I don't remember a single word of it."
"And...What the hell is this? That wanna be truck driver scumbag
gave you a framed photograph?"
"Yeah, he did. So what?"
"So what do you intend to do with it?"
"Hang it up over our bed,
so you will work harder."
"Or work somewhere else."
"You would never do that, old man,
you are too insanely monogamous.
And so am I, you idiot. I intend to
throw it in the garbage just like
Marcel told me to."
"God bless Marcel DuTramp."
"I'm lying. Marcel was by himself.
He conjured up a story about
a friend from the jetty...
"That's is actually Marcel DuTramp–the Poet Laureate of the Long Beach Jetty–
in the picture. He said 'Carol, please give this portrait to Paul
but only after getting him worked up into a jealous frenzy.' "
"This is what he calls a 'portrait?' He's no bigger than a speck of dust!
Ha. Ha. Ha...but my jealousy has been reduced to a speck of dust
and I want to hang this 'portrait' in the bathroom,
right over the toilet."
"Consider it done! I am sure the poet laureate will be honored.
We've always wanted a nice photograph of the Long Beach Jetty."
"Speck of dust, notwithstanding."
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