HIM: Have you noticed something? HER: What? HIM: It’s kind of dreary without having old Italic Me to kick around. HER: You know, it’s disturbing how much this sounds like that one Red Dwarf episode, but you’re right. HIM: Well, what do you think, should we let him back in? HER: Hmmmm . . . . HIM: What? You have that wicked smile I’ve learned in the last two minutes to love about you. HER: Well, I was just thinking. We let him back in provisionally. We let him stay as long he provides us with wicked sex acts, political activism, red underwear, and periodic song and dance routines. HIM: Awesome! Let’s do it. HIMWhy did nothing happen? HERI—I don’t know. I’m feeling a little funny about this. HIMMaybe we need someone to perform a vital transition or illustration or weird interjection, like Italic Me used to do. HERMay be. Let’s try someone from the audience. SOMEONE FROM THE AUDIENCE: HIM: Nope. Didn’t work. Let me grab someone. SOMEONE IN GALOSHES: ‹peep!› HER: Hm. Scarcely much better. Let me try one more time, and then I think I might be ready to quit playing games, if that’s what this is. A REAL BIG DUCKBILLED WALRUS WITH SATELLITE SHINGLES AND PLUTOSAURUS DIMWITS FOR SLUDGE ON PASTA NIGGER THE UNPAID ED CALLED SAID GIVE ME A BLOWJOB CAPITAL, A FENCE! AND KICKED SOME ONE IN THE BALLOON PAYMENT CENTER YOURSELF AND GET DOWN HERE, YOU’RE THE NEXT CONTESTANT ON THE PRICE IS PAID, ASSHOLE, IN THE FLESH, EVERY DAY, TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT ALONE IN THE THEATRE AGAIN, I SIT ON MY SEAT AND PUMP FLUIDS THRU MY GUN UNTIL EVERY MAN WOMAN AND CHILD ON THE STAGE IS LAIN DOWN AND DIED AND I RISE UP AND UP AND UP THE SPIRAL STAIR TO PERUSE MY KINGDOM THERE AND ALL I FIND WHEN I’M UP IN THE AIR IS A BUNCH OF ROPES, AND STRANDS OF HAIR:Roses. _Ah! Thanks for the roses!_ HIM: Welcome back, Italic Me. _Thank you. So much for that crisis, eh?_ HER: Oh, there’ll be others. _The stage darkens._