Turtle: Where's your tie? Don't you know this is a formal?

Worm: Uh yeah . . . I'm wearing a bolo tie but you just can't see it because it's so small around my worm neck

Turtle: Worms don't have necks

Worm: Yo mamma ain't got no neck.

Turtle: Say What

Worm: You heard

Turtle: You betta recognize

Worm: Turtle don't want none.

Turtle: Bring it bolo

All of the sudden the watchman walks in. He's blind. The turtle starts laughing and the worm starts laughing and the turtle keeps laughing and the worm keeps laughing

Watchman: What

Turtle: You ain't got no socks on watch

Watchman: So, cut me a break I'm a blind watchman How's I supposed to remember my socks

Worm: You could write it down.

Watchman: I can't see how am I supposed to read.

Turtle: You could get an interpreter

Watchman: Is that a bolo tie

Worm: Yeah thanks

Turtle: I thought you was blind.

Watchman: Correction. I am blind.

Turtle: Like you still is blind

Worm: Of course he's still blind Turtle. Watchman can't just get unblind all the sudden. What you think this is, the future.

Watchman: How can it be the future currently.

Turtle: Same way you see worm's bolo tie.

Watchman: Magic?

Worm: You know magic?

Turtle: Who Magic is.

Worm: you know magic.

Turtle: I do?

Watchman: I do.

Worm: Who asked you four eyes.

Turtle: Yeah what kind a blindman wears glasses. That's messed up.

Watchman: They help me pretend to think.

Worm: I got a magic trick for you.

Turtle: Knock Knock

Worm: Who's There

Turtle: A Rabbit

Watchman: A Rabbit Who?

Turtle: A Rabbit out a hat. Ta da.

Worm: That's the dumbest magic trick I ever heard.

Turtle: Yo mamma's a dumb magic trick

Watchman: He's got you there worm.

Worm: Scoreboard.

Turtle: But . . .

Worm: Scoreboard.

Turtle: . . . no one is keeping score

Worm: Tell it to the Scoreboard.

Suddenly the blindman takes off his glasses and starts laughing. He keeps laughing until Turtle and Worm can't help but forget what they are fighting for.

Watchman: I ain't got no socks on

Turtle and Worm: You crazy.

THE END

Eyes glazed over with work. Take a moment to listen to the revolution inside my ears. What if I'm old?

Fall without assignments. The days get shorter but the don't stop coming. Routine is a trash can full of excuses. When the time comes I'll get around to it. Time isn't coming though, just days. One right after another like words on a page no one will read. There is order and form but no meaning. Opportunity comes in a cereal box. If only I could afford it.