A Duologue (Part I)

Did you know Walter Matthau was referred to as a half-melted rubber bulldog?
Walter who?
Oh shit! You don't know Matthau? You know from Grumpy Old Men?
Hey, who you calling grumpy?
Oh, never mind.

Seems like most conversations I have end up as a monologue. Not all of them are about Walter Matthau, but still, wouldn't it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn't have to wait so long. No, stop going off on a tangent, I meant to say, wouldn't it be nice… oh, I lost it.

I'm miles away and you say 'penny for your thoughts' and I say 'why, you have cash to spare?'

I don't want to sound like an arrogant bastard, but they say sometimes that truths are more arrogant than fiction.
Really? Who are "they"?
You know, they, them who say "No, you won't be taxed on that"
Really?
Yes, and then you get hit with GST, VAT and BLT!
Bacon, lettuce and tomato?
No. breathing living tax!

So, this is a duologue?
Yes, as Noel Coward said…
I know! You're only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!
No!
Sorry, got caught in the flow.
Yeah, that's what they say about Diarrhoea.
The same they?
No, the Royal Philharmonic Orchestra.
Really?
No!
Damn!

PS: Duologue - a reasonably well-constructed duologue for two experienced performers (Noel Coward)

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