Give Us Your Slick, Your Broken-Shouldered

The early evening. Supper is on its way. Karaoke looms in the future. The People are talking.

Palinode: (in the midst of lying outrageously about something) It’s true.

Lotus: (also lying) I believe you.

Palinode: I’m not shitting you.

Lotus: I don’t want you to be shitting me.

Palinode: Really? What, I’m not good enough?

Lotus: No, I’d be coming out your - you know -

Palinode: Oh no, I don’t know all of a sudden.

Lotus: (lowers voice even though NO ONE’S AROUND) - your anus. If you were shitting me.

Palinode: It might not be so bad.

Lotus: Yes it would! How could it not be bad?

Palinode: Maybe if we coated you in some kind of oil. Baby, olive, motor. You’d be slick. And let’s see... maybe if we broke your shoulders... those could be a problem...

Lotus: I don’t want to be slick and broken-shouldered!

Palinode: Well fine. If you’re not going to put forth the effort there’s no point.

Lotus: Fine then!

Palinode: I didn’t want to shit you in the first place anyway.

Lotus: Good!

Palinode: That’s a relief, really.