“How long is this going on for?”
When people give enough money.
“Uh-huh. And, uh, how much is that?”
Just read the teleprompter, Bob.
“Okay. Was that Mike Tyson?”
Just read the ‘prompter, Bob.”
“Sure. Uh, okay. Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgahnagl fhtagn.”
Stop reading the ‘prompter, Bob.
“That didn’t sound right.”
“Feeling’s come back to me limbs, Bob. Right as rain again. I was…I was going to be on me way.”
“Oh, yeah. Yeah. Y’know, one of the first things the Dead did, all of us together as a band that wasn’t practicing or whatever? We went to see Hard Day’s Night. You guys. And, uh, we walked out of that theater and that was it. That was it. No way back, y’know? And that was you. Thanks for that.”
“It was me pleasure, Bob. I’ve met them all and I think I had the most fun with you.”
“Huh. Yeah. Oh, uh, sorry about the dosing and the magic and all that.”
“What point is meeting the Dead without some of that, Bob?”
“There you go. Anyway, don’t tell Jimi Hendrix, but you’re my new best friend now, Sir Paul McCartney.”
“Thanks, Bob. Oh, were you doing something?”
“Raising money for a lonely lunatic.”
“How’s it going?”
“All right then. Cheerio, Bob.”
“See ya. Hey, you should check the bus before you get going.”
“You got anything but tofu, man?”
“I saw Soup skulking around the thing.”