JOSHUA GREEN ALLEN. Moshi moshi.

SONIA ALLEN. Hey what the hell did you do to breakfast this morning?

JGA. Shh!

SA. You shh.

JGA. Honey, I’m pretty sure someone’s listening.

SA. To what?

JGA. To this. To my phone.

SA. What, like … ninjas?

JGA. Yeah, I think the phone’s tapped.

SA. Who would tap your phone.

JGA. Oh I don’t know, maybe the government? Maybe they want to steal my ideas? C’mon, honey, grow up. This is pretty basic.

SA. Which ideas are those, again?

JGA. My amazing ideas? The plant urinal? The manly lotion dispenser that looks like a grenade? The koala buddy?

SA. Well then I just feel sorry for the poor bastard who has to listen to you all day long.

JGA. Not me. That’s like the best government job you can get.

SA. I bet he’s begging for a transfer. You’re pretty one-note.

JGA. What! I’ve got notes all over the place. I’m a goddamn Yes song.

SA. He’s probably rolling his eyes right now.

JGA. He’s probably chuckling fondly!

SA. Just sighing and petting his partner, who’s a dog.

JGA. See? Best job in the world. Anyway, I’m flushing this phone down the toilet.

SA. You do that.

JGA. You’ll have to figure out some other way to yell at me about the breakfast thing.

SA. Oh I get it. This is all your little way of g—

JGA. Hanging up forever.

—click—