Kitchen. A rare weekday morning with Schmutzie and the Palinode up at the same time.
Palinode: Hmmm. (Pauses, rubs his eyes) Ah luuuv LA... da na na naa na na naa na na naa, WE LOVE IT, da na na naa na na naa na na naa...
Schmutzie: What are you trying to sing?
Palinode: ...WE LOVE IT, da na na naa na na naa na naa...
Palinode: Hey, you know what that song is?
Schmutzie: That McDonald's song? Da da da da daaa?
Palinode: No, it's I Love LA by Randy Newman.
Palinode: (singing)Look at that sumethin... Check out that stuff... it's... (brief pause for reorientation) Ah luuuuv LA, da na na naa...
Schmutzie: I don't know Randy Newman.
Palinode: Oh well. He doesn't know you either.
Schmutzie: That's not surprising.
Palinode: He's sitting at home right now singing "I don't know [Schmutzie]/ I don't know what she's doin'/ Don't know if she's a receptionist/ Or a draft pick Boston Bruin.
Schmutzie: I AM NOT A RECEPTIONIST!
Palinode: I didn't say you were a receptionist.
Schmutzie: I'm NOT a receptionist.
Palinode: I'm just singing Randy Newman's song about you where he's speculating on what you're doing. You're also not a Boston Bruin, but that doesn't stop him from wondering.
Schmutzie: Randy Newman doesn't know me.
Palinode: That's why he wrote that song about you.
Schmutzie: Randy Newman didn't write that song.
Palinode: Oh yeah? If he didn't write it, how come I know the lyrics?
Schmutzie: (Silence. The silence that comes from ignoring the conversation.)
Palinode: That's right. I just blew your mind. I messed with your head BIG TIME.