“When did this barber shop get here? Anyway, we’re here.”
Cool, mama. I’m tired of falling into the tv set and losing a couple of hours each time. That, heh, thing *needed* to be fixed.”
“Well, we’ll see if, let’s see, what was his name again?”
“Sam Hooker?” responded Preston Weston, good on names if bad on grades.
“Hooker, yes,” responded Your Mama, proud to have a son for the moment.
“And Alvin Straight, the other one. The Straight Guy.”
“Very good. Such a good memory.” They were at the front door.
“Should have bought a Zenith all along,” she muttered before opening it.
They were in the room right next door, but had yet to run into Annie and Karl. Obviously, because Annie was more than ready to spill blood. Former husband Benny Right Horn was still standing, in other words. Must be something in the name Annie…
“Brother Benny,” Jer Left Horn called from within the laundry room. “Your underwear’s dry.”
“The alleyway is a keyboard,” spoke Marion Harding, deep in a ganja trance.
“What’s that Mario… Marion?” Philip Strevor — professional pill popper.
“I’d like to buy this place from you Pizza Boy II. I’d like to build a door about right over…