Talk is Cheap

“You won’t get me to talk.”

“You already have, right there.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t care what you mean, I have already achieved my objective.”

“You are so infuriating at times.”

“I make it my job to be.”

“So, now you have tricked me into talking… what now?”

“Why does there have to be a ‘what now’?”

“There… you always follow up. That’s that you do.”

“No, that’s what you think I do.”

“Same thing.”

“Nope, no it isn’t. Not by a long chalk.”

“I think we should all take a moment. This isn’t getting us anywhere.”

“Why do we have to get somewhere?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I like it here.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why do you like it here?”

“I… it’s comfortable. It’s safe, I suppose.”

“Like a pair of comfy slippers?”

“I’m not a fan of slippers.”

“You are.”

“No, I was.”

“You can’t grow out of the appreciation of slippers, that’s not even a thing.”

“Well, I have.”

“No, you haven’t. Slippers are slippers and once you have slipped your foot into the delights of such footwear there is no going back. There’s nothing else like them.”

“Crocs…”

“There was no need for that.”

“There’s every need.”

“You know I don’t like Crocs.”

“I know no such thing. You like them, you’re just worried that someone may see you wearing them and look upon you unfavourably.”

“That’s not…”

“You can get fur lined Crocs. Did you know that?”

“I’m not a fan of those kind of things.”

“Whyever not?”

“Products that are the love child of two perfectly good things.”

“You said perfect.”

“Did I?”

“Slippers and Crocs. Perfect.”

“I didn’t mean that!”

“I don’t care. You can’t take it back, but for what it is worth, I agree.”

“Agree about what?”

“Ruining a perfectly good pair of Crocs by bastardising them with a fur lining. What is that all about?”

“Winter Crocs?”

“Winters are cold, wet and muddy. That fur lining is so impractical in the context of the most practical of footwear.”

“Practical!?”

“Yes, practical. Why are you laughing?”

“Crocs have holes in them!”

“To let your feet breath!”

“And let water in.”

“The water runs out again. Skin is waterproof.”

“Have you ever seen a Croc’s tan? It looks like a case of localised measles.”

“That doesn’t happen if you wear socks.”

“No one wears socks and Crocs.”

“Unless they’re American. They do that sort of thing.”

“Which is incontrovertible proof that it is not a thing, and that it never should be a thing.”

“Can we…?”

“No.”

“It’s just I’m getting bored of Crocs. And before you say it, no, I don’t want to go back to slippers. Not got anything against them, I just…”

“Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“You’ve brought an end to a subject and we’re dangerously close to… we can’t afford to stop. You know that. We need Crocs! And if you have a better subject to talk about than Crocs, then you throw it in the mix and if it’s good enough then it will swim.”

“What if it sinks?”

“Crocs float.”

“You and your bloody Crocs!”

“Other things float…”

“No, we are not going there!”

“Where?”

“You know full well! You’re so proud of the floaters!”

“We’re there all the same.”

“How can we not be?”

“Toilet and all its guises, it trumps even the magically utilitarian Croc!”

“I’d rather we stuck to the Crocs…”

“You wanted a subject change, and speaking of sticking to Crocs…”

“No! No! And thrice no!”

“OK. OK!”

“What do we think that plant is?”

“Dunno, but it’s interesting isn’t it?”

“Tropical, it looks a little bit tropical.”

“Desert island tropical…”

“Ooh! That’s a corker!”

“What is?”

“Desert island, what three things would you bring with you?”

“I’ve always thought that question was crap.”

“And why’s that?”

“Surely, if you were preparing to be stranded on a desert island, you could avoid the whole unpleasant experience instead? The whole desert island experience is supposed to be unexpected. Honestly, it’s a ridiculous state of affairs.”

“It’s not the only ridiculous state of affairs, is it?”

“Quite.”

“Indeed.”

“I used to struggle with the spelling of desert.”

“We know.”

“And there was that bloke Kevin who got a dessert rats tattoo when he was abroad.”

“Never get a word tattooed on you by someone who doesn’t speak the language.”

“Or if both of you are rubbish at spelling.”

“Maybe don’t get tattoos at all.”

“That’s a bit harsh.”

“What is the point of tattoos now?”

“How do you mean?”

“Tattoos are as common as denim jeans. Everybody has a pair.”

“I don’t.”

“You get the point though.”

“Not really.”

“Tattoos used to be the preserve of sub-cultures. They meant something. Those individuals that got ink were rebelling and being something shockingly different, now you’ve got middle aged people getting skulls tattooed on their arm and pretending they’re bloody salty sailors. They’re fashionable and an affectation. They’ve been rendered meaningless.”

“If you had to get one though…?”

“Bugger off!”

“I’d have a desert island!”

“How very droll.”

“Droll? Who actually says that word?!”

“I just did.”

“Never mind desert island, I’m with Kevin!”

“You’re with Kevin on a desert island? The three items you being onto the desert island can’t be people, that defeats the object entirely.”

“No! I’d have a dessert island tattoo!”

“Nice!”

“I like your thinking!”

“What!? That’s absurd!”

“What dessert would it be?”

“Ooh! Now that’s a good question!”

“It is isn’t it?”

“One of the best in a while.”

“This one will run and run. There’s some mileage to this one, isn’t there?”

“You mean the practicalities of living on a giant banana split?”

“I was thinking chocolate éclair actually.”

“Surely if you’re inclined towards the éclair then the choux bun is a better option?”

“But the éclair is the original and the best, so it has earned my loyalties.”

“Does it have to be just the one dessert?”

“Now that is brilliant! A smorgasbord of dessert! A palm tree that is really a giant ice cream cone topped with amazing ice cream flavours!”

“That you can climb up and swim in!”

“Swim? In ice cream?”

“The ice cream is going to melt isn’t it?”

“Best go for sorbet then.”

“And avoid cream.”

“Oh my! Yes, all that cream, in the sun. I feel sick just thinking about it.”

“And the flies. All the flies.”

“Do desert islands have flies?”

“No, but a dessert island surely must.”

“This is so upsetting!”

“What is?”

“How can the delightful purity of the dream of an island made entirely of dessert be corrupted and subverted so quickly?”

“Well, that is why we’re here isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…”

“Can we go back to Crocs then?”

“You and your bloody Crocs!”

“I’d like a rainbow pair for Summer.”

“I think…”

“No need, she’s rounding up!”

“What good timing that is!”

“Is it me, or are these sessions dragging more and more these days.”

“I don’t know about… no, scratch that, they certainly are a drag.”

“…I think we’ve made great progress today, don’t you?”

“Yes, Phillipa, I feel better for that.”

“You seem so much more focused of late, and that is so encouraging.”

“Yes, I am finding these sessions are helping me.”

“How do you feel?”

“Hungry.”

“You feel hungry?”

“Yes, I mean, hungry for more. Thanks to the… progress… and how well our sessions are going.”

“Oh! That’s so promising! Wait a minute. I think I can extend our next session by an extra half an hour. In the circumstances, I think we should forge ahead.”

“Oh good.”

“Yes! It is isn’t it?! And you don’t hear the voices anymore? You’ve done the exercises and replaced them with your one, single inner voice?”

“Yes I have.”

“All one voice. Your voice?”

“Just the one.”

“That is so remarkable. At this rate, I will be publishing our work together. This is so encouraging. All of the noise gone. You’re getting back to yourself. I’m so proud of you!”

“Hear that? She’s proud of us.”

“So proud she’s giving us an extra half an hour.”

“Well, at least we have the dessert island now.”

“And the Crocs.

“You and your bloody Crocs!”

“Crocs have never hurt anyone!”

“No, but you have…”

“We said we wouldn’t talk about that!”

“Calm down!”

“Don’t you tell me to calm down!”

“Not in front of her!” 

“Not in front of her!”

“Not in front of her!”

“Not in front of her!”

“Not in front of her!”

“Not in front of her! Not in front of her! Not in front of her! Not in front of her! Not in front of her! Not in front of her! Not in front of her! Not in front of her! Not in front of her! Not in front of her…”