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BMW i8

(Dick and Joe have a conversation

as they walk from the lobby of the motel

to the party room)


Ah, Christmas… always a miserable time.

The wine flows, Peter roars,

and we’re the fat that’s

in the fire. You know, Joe,

that HE is here.


Oh Dick!


Why are you always

trying to scare me?


The queen from the loft.


Does he still want you to be CEO?


We are not as friendly as we used to be.


If I’m supposed to make a fuss

and kiss his hairless cheek,

I won’t.


What you kiss, little prince, is up to you.


I’m Peter’s favorite; that’s what counts.


You hardly know me, Joe,

so I beg you,

believe my reputation.

I’m a natural exec,

a wheeler-dealer,

and I will be CEO.


Just you remember Dick…

Peter loves me best.

 (Meanwhile  in the party room

Eli, of the loft, whispers

into the ear of Peter, the CEO)


Why Joe? Joe doesn’t care for you at all.


(Peter responds

in hushed tones)


We love each other deeply.


None of them has any love for you.


Because we argue?


Tell me, do all three want the job?


I’ll tell you it’s an hourly employee that doesn’t.

They may snap at me and plot,

and that makes them

the kind of execs I want.

I’ve snapped and plotted

all my life.

There’s no other way to be CEO.

I am alive and sixty-five; all at once.


I’m going to fight for you.

 (Peter answers with sarcasm)

Oh, Great! 

How was your ride?

Did the rocks on the

Taconic Parkway

part for you?


They parted when I told them to;

I didn’t think to ask for more.

How dear of you to let me out of the loft.


It’s only for the holidays.

Like exercise,

you keep me young.



 Tomorrow Next Post: HERE’S PRETTY BOY