Storyteller: Okay, can you flex it to the side a little bit?
Erin: (starts to roll right foot around a bit) Fine...fine...(suddenly stops) Ow! Okay, it's still not healed yet.
Storyteller: Mmm. You really must have done a number on it when...where was it you were hiking again?
Erin: Huyler's Landing Trail. Downhill...and it's not difficult to sprain an ankle on that one.
Storyteller: Tsk, tsk. Beige, can you bring over another moss pack?
Beige: Here ya go. (looks at Erin's right ankle) Wow, your ankle's the size of a casaba melon.
Nora: Hey, when my grandmother's rheumatism acts up, she gets a knee the size of a watermelon. (reading from "Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul) "...that it was fundamental to the whole nature of pizza that it arrived at your front door in a hot cardboard box? That you slithered it out in greaseproof paper and ate it in folded slices in front of the TV?" (stops, licks lips)
Beige: Oooh...read any more of that, and I'm going to eat that book. And where's that pizza, anyway?
Scooter: They said that there was some accident at the pizza place. Something involving anchovies and a huge explosion. (pause) Wonder if Lew Zealand's been hanging around there.
(doorbell rings)
Scooter: I'll get it. (opens door) Oh, great, thanks. (hands over six dollars) Guys, pizza's here!
Storyteller: Did they include the little packet of garlic salt? I can't have my triple veggie works without the garlic salt!
(Soon, everyone is settled with slices of pizza and glasses of soda.)