The Moon Cares

"Look at the moon."

Doug's nose is pressed up against the window glass. June is standing next to him, drawing sketches on a receipt.

"It looks just like someone is shining a flash light down from the sky."

"I don't care about the moon." Cathrin turns off the kitchen light. "When you guys are done watching it, close the window. I got eaten alive by mosquitoes last night."

"The moon cares about you, Cath." June wags her pencil reproachfully. "Think about that."

"No, it doesn't. It's in space. It can't care about anything."

"The moon isn't you" Doug turns around to look at Cathrin. "You shouldn't project your own apathy onto it."


"She's speechless." June smirks.

"Kind of" says Doug "like the moon."

Your Personal Subconscious

"I had this dream last night." June is looking at Cathrin from behind her coffee cup, waiting patiently for a response. "Are you interested?"
"Hm?"
"Would you like to hear my dream?"
"Hmm..."
"Cathrin, stop reading for a second."

"What is it?" Cath looks up for the first time in a long time and she does not look happy.
"I dreamed that someone gave me a foot rest-" June stops talking and waits for Cath to look back up. "You're still reading."
"I'm in the middle of an informative article. If I stop reading now I'll forget everything and have to start over again."
Annoyed newspaper rustling.
Cath's head disappears behind black and white wispy pages announcing terror, horror, death, and grandmother's original recipes for pie.

"So I got this foot rest." June takes a sip of coffee. Waits a moment. Cathrin's head pops out for a second, annoyed and curious and very short fused. "And I'm upset for the whole dream because I can't get my hands on the matching armchair. Turns out a man impersonating a dog impersonating a man has it and, I don't know why, he keeps lugging it around with him following me."
"Is there a point to this story?" Cathrin frowns.
"Yes. He's mocking me. For the entire dream!"
"I mean, is it absolutely vital that I hear this story? Must I listen to the nonsensical ramblings of your personal subconscious?" Cathrin looks at her article. "I just lost my place! You did it!"

"None of that matters." June grabs the paper. "This morning, I woke up, and guess what was next to my bed?"
"A foot rest."
"No!" June triumphantly hops off her chair and skips over to the kitchen door. "A dude in a dog costume!"
"Please say you're joking." Cathrin leans back in her chair, counting down from ten in her head and breathing very deeply and slowly.
"Meet Doug!"
"Hi there."

With a little bit of resistance from Doug's side June manages to pull him from the hallway into the kitchen. He looks extremely uncomfortable. Cathrin looks extremely mad.
"He's staying here."
"He definitely is not."
"Cath, come on." June pinches Doug's cheek. "Isn't he a cutiepatootie?"
"I don't know what that is." Cathrin shakes Doug's hand and simultaneously pushes him backwards out of the kitchen. "Nice to meet you, Doug. June, I'm not supporting another one of your crazy projects."
"He's a person! He just appeared out of thin air in my room!"
"Naturally. That's how everyone enters our apartment." Cathrin opens the front door. "By teleportation." She chuckles. "Classic."

 "I really should go." Doug straightens out his fur and apologetically waves with one hand. "Not sure how I even got here."
"A dog with black outs!" Cathrin throws up her arms. "See what you're trying to drag into our home?"
"You are so choosy."  June grabs Doug, who is trying to sneak away down the staircase, by his tail. "We needed a new roommate, and here he is! All your problems are solved."
"I have a feeling all my problems just started." Cath sighs and walks back into the apartment. "Fine, he can stay. But he's paying rent. And you're not using my Credit Card anymore. And I'm not taking him on any walks."

Love Yourself

"I love you, June.

Oh, how sweet. I love you too, June.

Lookin' good today.

Thanks June, you too. I like that shirt."

"June, what on Earth is going on?"

"Don't be so rude, Cath. I'm talking here."

"To yourself!"

"I don't see a problem with that. Do you, June?

Not at all June, keep it up."

"You sound like a crazy person."

"When crazy people talk to themselves they don't answer their own questions, they just act like an invisible person is saying things back to them. The sheer fact that I am having a two sided conversation with myself points to my sanity."

"I'm sure it does."

"Don't listen to her June, you're wonderful."

"Stop doing that."

"Cath, to be loved you ought to first love yourself. I'm just making sure I feel loved.

You're so clever, June."

"How effective can a compliment be when it's coming from yourself?"

"Very. I hardly ever give compliments, so it means a lot to me to receive a compliment from me. I know I'm hard to please."

"Fine, but you're driving me crazy. Nothing about that makes sense."

"Makes perfect sense to me. The logic follows through, everything ties up neatly, and the results speak for themselves. June thinks so too."

"OK, one June is enough. I don't need two of you lounging around all day, wisecracking and using my credit card to buy patio furniture. We don't even have a patio."

"That was just once. Well, twice. It was necessary.

You made a judgment call. I would've done the same thing.

Right? Glad someone around here finally agrees with me."

"I need to get out of here, I am actually so allergic to you that I'm developing a rash."

"Stop scratching, that makes it worse. I read that in a magazine."

"I think all of your compliments have gone to your head."

Denial

"I'm not judgmental, you freaks."

The Big Very Loud Plop Theory

"Suppose we weren't created with a Big Bang but rather a very loud Plop."

"You can't lead the creation of the entire universe back to the sound a water bottle makes when you open it."

"I was thinking more like those glass milk bottles with the aluminum lid that plops up when you twist it."

"June, science has spent countless years coming up with the Big Bang Theory."

"So, it's a theory?"

"Everything we know about what happened that long ago is just a theory. It's not like we had Polaroid back then."

"Or existed, for that matter."

"Right, so leave it to science. They're working out the kinks."

"Scientists are all crooks and charlatans. I never rely on word of mouth, especially not after millions of years have gone by and everyone who was around back then is dead."

"There was no one around back then, it was just a big hot, dense mess."

"See, how do you know that? How do we know anything?"

"They've studied the Earth.."

"Well, yes, they have. But you haven't. I haven't. Are we just going to rely on everything everyone tells us?"

"Yes! That's how the world works."

"My world certainly doesn't work like that. I'll believe in the Big, Very Loud Plop Theory from now on, thank you."

"You can believe anything you want, but that doesn't make it true."

"What if I found an expert in the field of universal creation to back up my claim? And what if I start printing and distributing my own science books?"

"To spread the Big Plop Theory?"

"I'll get the President and France's prime minister on the phone right now. We're just one generous donation away from changing the history of the universe."

"Why do you need the prime minister of France for that?"

"I hear he has some very good input."

"June, history is being rewritten and revised every day, do you want to be another contributor to the disinformation of humanity?"

"You call it disinformation. I call it expansion of your mind's viewpoint."

"I don't know why I get into these discussions with you. They never lead anywhere."

"Screw the winners, let the losers write history! They'll likely have more interesting things to report anyway."

It's Poetry You Dimwit

"Oh! Woe he who has nothing but the scant clothes on his back. Woe be for the man whose foot leaves not even a track. And not a shadow round to follow him - not even in his lap. Oh, woe the man whose tree grows tall but not a drop of sap."

"Sap is right."

"It's poetry, you dimwit."

"It didn't really make sense. Also, I think it was partially grammatically incorrect. I'd have to look it up, but I'm pretty sure you can't use the word 'woe' like that."

"What, three times in a row? Is it a Bloody Mary thing?"

"Now that I think about it, you kind of sounded like a pirate."

"Who cares. Poetry is free from all your illusory constrictions!""

"I didn't like it."

"Well, no one asked your opinion."

"I am a very opinionated person. If you choose to spontaneously recite random poetry around me, I will have an opinion. And you will hear it."

"Man, I just forgot it. I knew that would happen."

People Should Get a Sense of Humor

It's early morning, dark and foggy and crisp, just cold enough to get the tip of your nose freezing but nothing justifying a pair of gloves yet.
The heater is, of course, broken, and just because the household items like to support each other in whatever is going on, the coffee maker, toaster oven, and electric umbrella stand also refuse to work properly.

"It just burned me twice in a row!" As proof, June holds up a blistered finger.
"It's a toaster oven, it's going to get hot. That doesn't mean it's possessed." Cathrin puts a couple of slices of bread in the oven and turns it on. "I'm going to take an incredible risk here and toast my bread."
"Go ahead, I warned you. It's all I can do." June finishes bandaging her hand back up and takes a sip of her tea. "I've always wondered why we need an electric umbrella stand. A normal one would do just fine."

"Oh." There is a genuine look of surprise on Cathrin's face. "You didn't make coffee?"
"Try it. I dare you." June grimly stirs the spoon around in her cup and begins flipping newspaper pages, while the coffeemaker proceeds to hiss loudly, spray Cathrin with water, and finally turn itself off.
"This is odd" notices Cathrin and takes a step back from the counter. "It sounded angry."
"Maybe it doesn't like making coffee for us anymore."

 "Don't be silly." Cathrin grabs her toast from the evil toaster oven. "OW! That thing just burned me!"
"I tried to warn you." June sighs. "People don't take me seriously. I am a very serious person. I don't know why people don't take me serious."
"Maybe it's because you say serious so much."

"People don't listen, so I will talk very clearly and slowly from now on. So people can understand me."
"Are you talking about me?"
"No."
"Yes you are!"
"I am talking about people."
"You are talking about me!"
"People are too paranoid."
"Ok, funny. I get it. You can stop."
"People should get a sense of humor."