Note: Strong language
Tuesday, October 24th, 9:00pm
Mr. Splindle and Horace
Mr. Splindle: It’s not really cheating.
Horace: Of-of c-c-course not, M-Mr. Sssssplindle
Mr. Splindle: We’re just going to have a nice quiet roast beef dinner and a few beers.
Mr. Splindle: But you know, we don’t need to tell anyone about this at work.
Horace: Oh n-no! M-Mr. Splindle! And we w-won’t t-t-tell your w-w-w-wife either!
Mr. Splindle: Very good, Horace.
Horace: M-Mr. Sssplindle?
Mr. Splindle: Yes, Horace?
Horace: W-why did you w-w-want me to c-come with you?
Mr. Splindle: Why Horace, I asked you to come with me because you need to get out. To live a little! Have you ever been to a strip joint before?
Mr. Splindle: Exactly. And you’ll have to get used to it, because when you become my assistant in this new enterprise, you’ll accompany me, with our clients, to peeler bars all across the county.
Horace: And w-we don’t t-t-t-t-tell anyo-one at work about this other e-enterp-prise either, r-r-r-right?
Mr. Splindle: That’s right, Horace. The only one we talk about that with is Hank.
Horace: M-Mr. Ssssplindle?
Mr. Splindle: (sighs) Yes, Horace?
Horace: About my w-w-wife. P-please don’t t-t-t-t-t-tell her, s-sir. Sh-she’d be awfully m-mad if sh-she f-f-f-f-f…
Mr. Splindle: … found out that you went to see strippers?
Horace: (nods) Mmhmm…
Mr. Splindle: (pats Horace’s knee) I understand completely. Most women are delicate flowers, Horace. We must protect them as best we can.
Mr. Splindle: But you know there are some women who are more like weeds. They live between the cracks of society and deserve none of our esteem. They are the sort we are going to see tonight, Horace. Weeds. Objects just looking for men like us to pollinate them. (rubs hands together) Tonight I’d like to go pollinate a few of those weeds.
Horace: M-M-M-Mr. Ssssssp-p-plinnndle?
Mr. Splindle: YES, Horace?
Horace: Go f-f-fuck yourself, sir.
Horace gets off the bus.
Next stop: Wednesday, October 25th, 7:00pm