(xx) Two Tons of Coal

Well sir, the evening meal has been over only a little while as we join our friends in the small house halfway up in the next block now. And we find Mr. and Mrs. Victor Cook and young Mr. Rush Cook enjoying the season of post-prandial ease in the living room.

Their serenity is short live however, for say it is just produced consternation. Listen. You don't mean to tell me to do what you think of a whole other night. Wait a minute. I've known you.

You've known me. You've done many to it. You were joking all the time, weren't you? Not joking a bit. You might tell you you couldn't have the mother's mover. No, you're kidding. Please. A person makes an innocent little remark and fellas jump out of their undershirts screaming like panthers.

And you were joking? No. You're serious? When you suggest going over and down the huge basement and carrying out two tens of coal? It's got to be done, hasn't it? Tonight's the bad business men play handball down to YMCA.

Well, you don't have to be there, though. I was cute. Before I mentioned the call, I said, what you gonna do this evening, Vic? Mr. Vic said nothing. I said, you got anything up your sleeve, Rush?

Mr. Rush said no. A very, very ingenious fact. Now, what you say we don't bother going through a lot of talky talk and stuff? What you say we slip into our overalls and take care of this little job?

Your mother calls moving two-tens of coal and it is a job. You don't have to move at all this evening. You're too kind, sayy. Your heart is bigger in the tub. But I can't let you get away with so much generosity.