The InvestiGators

[A and F, two whatevers, walk into a room. There's a phone lying on the floor.]

A: What's this?

F: It looks like a phone!

A: [picks up phone] Perhaps... Perhaps you're on to something there. It has a... rather phonelike quality that I just can't quite place.

[A gives the phone to F.]

F: This phone has definitely been used recently. It's still warm. [handing it back to A]

A: You're right. And it smells like fresh spit-ELL. [trying to sound French on this last word]

F: I prefer Fresh brand Spit-ELL to all the others.

A: You have good taste. For a former freedom fighter used to hanging out in caves.

F: We use Spit-ELL in caves, too. You'd be surprised.

A: There's nothing that would surprise me now. Not since... The Great Event.

F: Oh, yes. It was great.

A: And it was an event. Especially for me, and for those around me.

F: Shall we go for some Spit-ELL?

A: Always. Your cave or mine?

F: Once a freedom fighter...

A: ...Always up for some Fresh Spit-ELL.

F: You know, at the end of the day, I think I must have really BAD taste. Because Spit-ELL is made from spit.

A: Well, if that's bad taste, then so do I. Have. It. Bad taste.

F: Your taste is bad.

A: I have bad taste. Yes. And you know what? I like it. 'Cause if I had "good" taste, I wouldn't enjoy Spit-ELL.

F: And then there'd be no point in living.

A: Amen.

[Both smile warmly at each other as they walk off together.]

NARRATOR'S VOICE: And so there wasn't.

   THE END


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[See the site of National Sketch Writing Month for the meaning of all this.]