(no subject)
Oh, imaginary dialogue. You are the reason that it is incredibely frustrating to try and learn about an event from me.
I wish to be on record as saying: This was actually written as an email to someone, I did not come up with it merely to post here. Points for me?
Me: Oh man, working is pretty unpleasant luckily I am home now and can finally eat for the first time in six hours!
Stomach: Indeed, luck!
Outer Porch Door: And now, I open!
House Door: PSYCHE
Me: Oh dear.
House Door: PSYCHE
Me: No opening?
House Door: Oh, I sorry. Yeah, that's what I'm getting at here. PSYCHE.
Me: Dear cell phone: Please communicate to my father that the door is locked and I cannot get in.
Cell Phone: Your father replies that that is impossible, as you all left the house this morning, and also inquires as to the position of the lock in reference to every area in the house, on the off chance that incessant and inane chatter has driven you mad and you are trying to enter through a wall.
Me: Dear Cell phone: Please tell my father that I am quite sure.
Cell phone: Your father wishes to once again express his bemusement with the situation, and to assure you that he will be home in half an hour.
Me: This is alright.
Mailman: No really, I am listening to my headphones and have no idea that you exist and am totally not hearing this conversation.
Cats: We are so interested in whatever is happening right now. How do YOU like being stuck on the porch, huh?
Stomach: Dear Mitch: I wish to inform you that I am displeased, and have taken it out on your impulse control and logic centers.
Impulse Control and Logic Centers: Oh come on now. Talk about going for the weakest link.
Me: You know what is an excellent idea? Breaking into my house! I shall attempt to pick various locks, using safety pins!
Locks and Safety Pins: You are Awful.
Every movie ever: We have lied to you, picking locks is basically impossible.
Me: Luckily, the blood flow that was cut off to my impulse control and logic centers has gone into my ingenuity centers! Now I shall go find a window with the air conditioning, take out the air conditioning, and climb in! Luckily we have this small ladder on the porch, I am like seven and a half feet tall now.
Window with Air Conditioning: Good lord, I am still like five feet about you.
Air Conditioning: I shall crush you. Like a tiny bug lacking an exoskeleton.
Logic Centers: I shall give a feeble twitch and prevent this!
Me: Perhaps there is a better way.
(A brief time later)
Kitchen Window Screen: I will not wield to your windshield-ice-breaker advances!
Me: I shall reconsider.
Kitchen Window Screen: Curse you and your carefully placed leverage using a garden fork!
Inner Kitchen Window: I am more or less the most easy thing to open ever, but still a foot or so above your head.
Cats: We can goes outsidez now?
Me: Alas! To both of the above.
Plastic lawn chair: I am narrow, yet will save the day!
Me: Hurrah!
Plastic Lawn Chair: You are aware that this tiny ladder is not so much balanced on me as it is...well...about to fall over, yes?
Me: Hush! Now, I perform a small, wriggling dance in order to get through the window.
Passing Mail Truck: There is no god.
Me: Hush! This is not what it looks like!
Kitchen: I have been violated!
Me: Cell phone: please contact father.
Father: Which window did you break?
Me: I AM SO AWESOME.
The only part of that which was actually spoken at the time were the last two lines, which are direct quotes! That is where the dance comes in.
I wish to be on record as saying: This was actually written as an email to someone, I did not come up with it merely to post here. Points for me?
Me: Oh man, working is pretty unpleasant luckily I am home now and can finally eat for the first time in six hours!
Stomach: Indeed, luck!
Outer Porch Door: And now, I open!
House Door: PSYCHE
Me: Oh dear.
House Door: PSYCHE
Me: No opening?
House Door: Oh, I sorry. Yeah, that's what I'm getting at here. PSYCHE.
Me: Dear cell phone: Please communicate to my father that the door is locked and I cannot get in.
Cell Phone: Your father replies that that is impossible, as you all left the house this morning, and also inquires as to the position of the lock in reference to every area in the house, on the off chance that incessant and inane chatter has driven you mad and you are trying to enter through a wall.
Me: Dear Cell phone: Please tell my father that I am quite sure.
Cell phone: Your father wishes to once again express his bemusement with the situation, and to assure you that he will be home in half an hour.
Me: This is alright.
Mailman: No really, I am listening to my headphones and have no idea that you exist and am totally not hearing this conversation.
Cats: We are so interested in whatever is happening right now. How do YOU like being stuck on the porch, huh?
Stomach: Dear Mitch: I wish to inform you that I am displeased, and have taken it out on your impulse control and logic centers.
Impulse Control and Logic Centers: Oh come on now. Talk about going for the weakest link.
Me: You know what is an excellent idea? Breaking into my house! I shall attempt to pick various locks, using safety pins!
Locks and Safety Pins: You are Awful.
Every movie ever: We have lied to you, picking locks is basically impossible.
Me: Luckily, the blood flow that was cut off to my impulse control and logic centers has gone into my ingenuity centers! Now I shall go find a window with the air conditioning, take out the air conditioning, and climb in! Luckily we have this small ladder on the porch, I am like seven and a half feet tall now.
Window with Air Conditioning: Good lord, I am still like five feet about you.
Air Conditioning: I shall crush you. Like a tiny bug lacking an exoskeleton.
Logic Centers: I shall give a feeble twitch and prevent this!
Me: Perhaps there is a better way.
(A brief time later)
Kitchen Window Screen: I will not wield to your windshield-ice-breaker advances!
Me: I shall reconsider.
Kitchen Window Screen: Curse you and your carefully placed leverage using a garden fork!
Inner Kitchen Window: I am more or less the most easy thing to open ever, but still a foot or so above your head.
Cats: We can goes outsidez now?
Me: Alas! To both of the above.
Plastic lawn chair: I am narrow, yet will save the day!
Me: Hurrah!
Plastic Lawn Chair: You are aware that this tiny ladder is not so much balanced on me as it is...well...about to fall over, yes?
Me: Hush! Now, I perform a small, wriggling dance in order to get through the window.
Passing Mail Truck: There is no god.
Me: Hush! This is not what it looks like!
Kitchen: I have been violated!
Me: Cell phone: please contact father.
Father: Which window did you break?
Me: I AM SO AWESOME.
The only part of that which was actually spoken at the time were the last two lines, which are direct quotes! That is where the dance comes in.