For qe2
Number Eight - Whimsy/Reality
“Oh, dear.”
“That is not a good thing to say, Fraser.”
“Ah.”
“Neither is that.”
“I’m sorry, Ray. But, well, I’ve just read the label on the bag that Mr. Lembowitz opened onto your head.”
“And?”
“Well, could I just borrow your phone?”
“Fraser-”
“I believe the street name is ‘fairy dust’ and we do already know that Mr. Lembowitz was cutting his product to a degree that had at least fifteen people hunting him down.”
“…Fraser, uh. There isn’t a rainbow around you is there?”
“No, Ray.”
“Oh, good. And the giraffes?”
“Imaginary, Ray. If you wouldn’t mind just sitting down and sipping some of this water? I’ll phone the emergency services.”
“Ah, crap.”
“Oh, dear.”
“That is not a good thing to say, Fraser.”
“Ah.”
“Neither is that.”
“I’m sorry, Ray. But, well, I’ve just read the label on the bag that Mr. Lembowitz opened onto your head.”
“And?”
“Well, could I just borrow your phone?”
“Fraser-”
“I believe the street name is ‘fairy dust’ and we do already know that Mr. Lembowitz was cutting his product to a degree that had at least fifteen people hunting him down.”
“…Fraser, uh. There isn’t a rainbow around you is there?”
“No, Ray.”
“Oh, good. And the giraffes?”
“Imaginary, Ray. If you wouldn’t mind just sitting down and sipping some of this water? I’ll phone the emergency services.”
“Ah, crap.”