Jack: My, my, you’re incisive today.
Buck: I have to be. Otherwise I wouldn’t be very useful, don’t you think?
Jack: The least you could do is stop being a prick.
Buck: It’s the nitty gritty of reality.
Jack: Well, reality hurts.
Buck: There’s no pixie dust, no royalty to transport. That’s fantasy. This is the next best thing, believe me.
Jack: I don’t need reminding. Well, that fantasy is one of my favorite stories. Thanks for ruining it.
Buck: Why am I not surprised?
Jack: I’ve had quite an influence on popular culture.
Buck: The same is true for me, but I’m cutting edge.
Jack: (sighing) What are you going to do, gut me?
Buck: That’s the idea.
Jack: (toothily) I don’t mean to be square… but why are you doing this?
Buck: (indifferent) It’s necessary. The circumstances demand it.
Jack: …
Buck: Uhh. Who knew you had a seedy underbelly! Thought that only happened in crime fiction.
Jack: (self-absorbed) It’s not fair.
Buck: That’s true, but when I’m done, you will be.
Jack: Huh?
Buck: You do have a nice grin…
Jack: (warming up) I do, don’t I?
Buck: …but your eyes are a bit bent out of shape.
Jack: And here I am, thinking you were being nice for a change.
Buck: I don’t mean to slice and dice your feelings.
Jack: It’s your nature, huh?
Buck: Yes. (sharply) It’s not like I can help it.
Jack: (despondent) At least you don’t stab my back.
Buck: …yet. (stabs Jack’s back)
Jack: What was that for?!
Buck: Dunno. More light, maybe? You sure can hold a candle.
Jack: I sure can, don’t I?
Buck: (sincerely) Yes you can, and it’s brilliant.
Jack: (happily) I’ll forgive you. You know not what you do.
Buck: Yeah. I’m just glad I won’t be turned into pie.
Jack: (miserable) I knew it was too good to be true… once a prick, always a prick.
Buck: It can’t be easy being a pumpkin. Rotting, forgotten in the compost.
Jack: At least I bring joy. What do you draw but blood?
Buck: Blood and meaty orange pulp. Good knowing you, Jack.
Jack: Well, fuck you, Buck. (sarcastic) It was nice while it lasted.
Tag Archives: pie
Garden Felicitations
Miss Olivia Ladgrise confers with a close acquaintance, the Madam Jessica Souperkoup, concerning the subject of a favorite employee and his esteemed qualities in the garden and kitchen:
I love how he manhandles my watermelons and delicately plucks my strawberries. The cherries he drops into my hand, so succulent! Cucumbers, corn, carrots, celery, and eggplants! Many small mushrooms of all kinds and some quite large ones with a sweet flavor and a salty tang.
Red tomatoes, pressed together until they explode pulp to be simmered. He strokes the basil with tenderness as he brings it close to savor the scent. What magic he does with my oreganos, you would like to know! But it’s our secret. Oh. He clutches at my pomegranates with a thirst in his eyes. My avocados soften in the heat forged by his skilled hands.
Rhubarb! Oh, his rhubarb pie makes me melt with candied delight.
vignettes 