Those 70ish Girls

You never know who you’re going to run into.

Sound at the door: Knock knock

Sound from inside: Who’s there?

Yram: Its ‘s Yram Sicnarf. I’m a crack up reporter from Gun Barrel City. Did you get my message? Can I come inside your tiny home?

 

 

Kip: What if I say no?

Yram: My my my…what a lovely tiny home… Somehow I thought you would be smaller…Mind if I ask you a few tiny questions? I’m only going to be in Gun Barrel for a couple of days then back to Murdo I go.

Kip: I’ve heard about you. I heard you ask a lot of stupid questions and that you’ve been in a little trouble with the law as a result of your propensity to badger people. Are you here avoiding the law?

Yram: Oh cont-rare…I wear those restraining orders like a badge of honor. Have you not heard of reporters being arrested for not revealing their sources?

Kip: Aren’t your sources the ones filing the restraining orders?

Yram: As a matter of fact, I don’t have a single restraining order against me…unless you count the one I got at the royal wedding. They call it something different. Those Brits don’t like being interviewed much. Meghan was downright rude! All she would’ve had to do is ask me nicely to get out of her horse-drawn carriage and I would have…no questions asked.

Kip: Cute.. You really remind me of someone. Do you have family around here?

Yram: No…I’m pretty much a loner. I just showed up here one day and decided to make it my home. I have a cousin, Lav, but she just kind of hangs around, too.

I like Gun Barrel’s motto: We shoot straight! I like Murdo’s too. They call it The Magic City. Anyhoo, the Murdoites want me to investigate this tiny home of yours. How much did it cost?

Kip: I’ll let you know as soon as I have the courage to add it all up.

Yram: Feeling the squeeze are ya? Pouring money down a rat hole brings a person down. You look very depressed.

Kip: I do?

Yram: Yes…where’s your wife?

Kip: She needed a few things, so she went to Goodwill

Yram: Really? I see you’re out of peanut butter. (Kip is eating a PB & J sandwich.)

The Report…

They don’t call me a crack-up reporter for nothing. I was able to snag an interview with the purchaser of the local tiny home. It’s okay, I guess, if you like living in a train car next to a big brown barn, and rabbits for decorations.

FYI, here’s a scoop. They are as poor as church mice. I’m on my way to the bank right now to set up a donation fund because that’s just the kind of person I am. When I hear someone’s got troubles, I like to spread it around.

By the way. That Kip guy is almost as rude as that little Princess Meghan, and Mr. Applefloor, and Mr. Haugland with one H, and the guy who has a son with a sign outside of Murdo. But I don’t think he filed a restraining order against me. At least not yet!

I’m going to go look for those two high flying Queens. I know they live around here somewhere. I want to interview them.

There’s one! My first question will be what is stuck in your teeth?  I wonder what’s up with the double tinfoil crown…