[Night. The distaff side of time. Stray dogs crouching in the bushes, the moon bellied out like a spinnaker at the prow of the dark sky. You get the idea. Schmutzie and Palinode are in bed.]
Palinode: Something just occurred to me.
Schmutzie: What’s that?
Palinode: I’ve figured out how to predict the future.
Schmutzie: You do not know how to predict the future.
Palinode: Totally. I’ve got it cased.
Schmutzie: Prove it.
Palinode: On July 23, 2012, I will receive a present.
Schmutzie: Of course you will. That’s your birthday.
Palinode: And when will that birthday happen?
Palinode: That’s right. In the future. Quod erat BOOYAH.
Schmutzie: I thought of the best present for you the other day.
Palinode: Really? What was it?
Schmutzie: Well you’re not getting it now.