Bob’s-In-Law: Of course, it’s from the actual Vatican. Smell it.
Customer: Smells like Nag Champa.
You, good sir … do not know your incense. That is Vatican Frankincense.
I don’t know. Maybe if you had two. One for me and my wife. We’re going to Rome this summer. That would be kinda fun. If you had two. So we could both wear them, but …
Bob’s-In-Law pulls out the second Cardinal hat from his jacket.
Woah! Ok, cool.
I bet you didn’t know you were gonna get lucky tonight, did ya?
Over to the bar: Lady, now we know her name, Gale, is inebriated and talking to Bob.
Gale: You were an idiot. An idiot!
Bob: I’m still an idiot.
See … that’s what I’m talking about. Old Bob never would’ve admitted that! But … now … you’ve got … this place … it’s really nice … it’s really … really … sophisticated … yet, obnoxious, too … special. Very special.
“Very”? You used to chastise me for using that word.
I did! I should’ve! I should! You deserve it! “Damn” is much better … and my editor … my editor will …
Ok, Ms. Twain … I think it’s time to let you try the Sober Mask …
What!? No … I don’t wanna use it … I like my GABA levels right where they are, thanks … makes everything you say … sound … important.
I’d love to take that as a compliment, but I don’t think our brains are mixing the same cocktail right now … come on … it’s a new model … you’ll be calling me like I am in five minutes.
Exactly. Hold that thought and my arm. Let’s go.
No … but, you’re not an asshole. You’re nice, now. Smarter.
We’ll see …
Here I am, Bob. Just take me.