“So, dude, how’s the house hunting?”
“How should I know, dude? I ain’t never seen a house in camouflage going after big game, and I’m not sure I’d want to.”
“No, dude. The big game’s in the house, on the big screen in the living room. Or it would be, if we had a house to put it in.”
“Riiight, dude. And just how many decades of Payperblaug do you reckon it’ll take you to make the $570 grand you need to buy a doll house in Honolulu?”
“Doll house, schmal house, dude. Luxury box for me, thanks. Hell, I’ll take the whole stadium. Speaking of big screens. Gnarly!”
“Dude. I hate to admit this, but I’m impressed. When you go off the deep end, you don’t just jump, you tie weights to your ankles. A stadium?!?”
“Same money as your doll house, dude. Even has a roof. Here. Read.”
“‘Pontiac Silverdome sells for $583,000 …’ But, dude, the yearly electric bill for that place is probably bigger than that!”
“Well, we’d probably have to be a little careful, that’s all. Turn off the lights when we left a room, no watching soap operas on the Jumbotron, stuff like that. At least until we got the solar panels installed.”
“Man. I’d heard that Michigan was in tough shape, but I never reckoned it was this bad.”
“Well, dude, that’s what happens when you have one money-maker in your economy, and it goes belly up.”
“Like cars, dude?”
“Yeah. Or tourists.”
– O Ceallaigh
Copyright © 2009 Felloffatruck Publications. All wrongs deplored.
All opinions are mine as a private citizen.