An assortment of Bizarre Dialogues.

The scary thing is: these've all been real.
They happened! (Well, except the first one.)

Coocaburra sits in the old gum tree... Old gum? Ew!

The Script to "The Original Tasty Muffin Caper"

Stellaciel: "Oh sheep, did you hear that?"

Jules: "Shh! Quiet, you fool!"

S: "Oh no, don't pull that 'bow down!' stuff again! I bruised my knees really badly last time, and--"

J: "I didn't think you'd actually DO it. I mean, come on, Stellaciel. If I told you to jump off a--"

S: "Don't say bridge. Don't say it."

J: "I was GOING to say porpoise, but now I'm offended--"

S: "Ooh! YES! Look, muffins!"

J: "Muffins! Huzzah! Stellaciel, quickly, eat one so I can put them in the bag!"

S: "Yessuh mastah!" [reaches out for a muffin, then seems to come to her senses] "But...why?"

J: "Because, they might be poisonous. Or puffins in disguise. Then you'll be dead, and I'll have to avenge you--I'M really the one sacrificing here, if you think about it."

S: "Oh, well, in that case..." [eats muffin and dies]

J: "Hmm. Intriguing. I thought they smelled funny. Er--I mean--NOOOOOOO! STELLACIEL! SO YOUNG, SO YOUNG....I WILL AVENGE THEEEEEEE!"

At the bottom, a discerning eye will notice that the signature "Jules" has been hastily, but not wholly, erased ...

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7/22/2008: Jules endures torture on the plane

After enduring two and a half hours of grueling torture via being placed in the company of a five-year-old named Damon and a ten-year-old named Jesse, my hopes are not high for the second leg of the flight, though I've thankfully been allowed to change seats for the second duration—directly in front of the demons.

Evil Minion Undoubtedly Sent by Fate to Catalyze My Long-Due Unhinging #1 (aka Jesse, the ten-year-old): Where you coming from?

Unfortunate Middle-Aged Man Placed in My Seat (and to whom I've already extended my sincere condolences): I was in Denver for three days for work. Before then I was in Texas watching my daughter play college softball.

Jesse: What's her name?

Middle-Aged Man: My daughter? Er, Kelly Murray.

The man looks like he's about to beg the flight attendant for either a seat change, or flight change altogether, when the plane starts taking off. Bugger for him.

Jesse and Damon both take turns screaming as the planes takes off. The flight attendant (poor man) alternately tells them to please be quiet and crosses his eyes at me, his fellow veteran. I make a mental note to write a letter considering this guy's salary.

Jesse: I asked because I watched college softball one time. (I had no idea ten-year-olds' memories/attention spans stretched that far—especially after just having a blast screaming their heads off). I sneeze a few times, and their voices are drowned out.

Middle-Aged Man: ...Goes to Texas A&M.

Damon: I gotta pee!

Jesse: Look we're in a cloud!

My opinion of Evil Minion #1 rises exponentially at the wonder in his voice. Just...aww!

Evil Minion #2 returns.

Middle-Aged Man: (jokingly) Did you wash your hands?

Damon: (death glare) Fine.

Middle-Aged Man: (agape) (I turned around to witness the undoubtedly priceless look on his face and was not disappointed.)

Middle-Aged Man: So, do you two know each other?

I turn around to see them nod, and decide to continue looking, not really caring if I freak anyone out by staring at them and writing.

Middle-Aged Man: Are you brothers? Friends?

Damon: Friends!

Middle-Aged Man: (apparently hearing incorrectly) Twins?!

I burst out laughing—even not counting the five-year age difference, the five-year-old is an adorable African American boy with Morgan-Freeman-like freckles, while the ten-year-old is Caucasian with perpetually rosy cheeks and blue eyes. I'm not sure you can be that fraternal.

Damon: FRIENDS, YOU STUPID HEAD!

Here, I turn on my iPod, partly because I can barely hear the trio over the wailing of a demon baby a few rows back, but mostly because the Evil Minions have started a sword fight with rolled up in-flight magazines, and while watching the Unfortunate Middle-Aged Man try to dodge the blows is amusing, it's not possible to do it justice on paper.

I tune in to hear:

Jesse: Dude, your daughter's hot!

Middle-Aged Man: (wryly) Thank you.

Jesse: (smugly) I've got a girlfriend.

Middle-Aged Man: (dismissively) I've got a wife.

Jesse: (ignores him) Yeah, I got her in St. Louis. Then I lost her.

Middle-Aged Man: You lost her?

Jesse: Yeah. I let go of her hand.

Middle-Aged Man: (mildly horrified) Where was she lost? I-I mean, was she found, or—

Damon: I'VE GOT A GIRLFRIEND, TOO!

Middle-Aged Man: Oh, really?

Damon: (to my amusement, he points at me) Her!

Middle-Aged Man: (laughs)

Damon: For serious!

I go on to explain to Unfortunate Middle-Aged Man that I am dating the five-year-old, and have been for years. I'm smiling broadly and assume he'll get the joke, but judging by the look he's giving me, he isn't very amused. I've hereby decided to never speak again.

Jesse: I like sports!

Middle-Aged Man: Really? What kind of sports?

Jesse: I like football, basketball, hockey, soccer, tennis, and badminton. (No joke.)

Middle-Aged Man: Badminton?

Damon: I like golf! Tiger Woods is my daddy!

Middle-Aged Man: Really?

Damon: NO YOU STUPID HEAD! YOU'RE STUPID!

The man sighs and stands up to go to the lavatory.

I turn around and ask how the kids' fight is going, and get called 'stupid head' in almost perfect unison.

I've decided this is a good stopping point.

Stupid head.

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11:47 PM 7/28/2008: Spencer (of iCarly fame) goes to Canada

Upon hearing that the iCarly episode "iPromote Techfoots" involves Spencer falling asleep on a bus and ending up in Canada, this following postcard was composed:

" Dear Carly,

I'm sorry for abandoning you, but in a bizarre twist of fate I've gone away to Canada and married a moose and now have responsibilities to my wife and children (don't go there). So you see, I won't be home for Thanksgiving dinner (though we're thinking we can make it for Christmas - Darla's got the plum pudding!).

Love, Spencer.

P.S. It is very cold here. Knit me something fluorescent? "

[silence]

Jules: Should we write that down?

Stellaciel: Totally. [leaps out of bed]

[cheap blue pen on green scrap paper from the 6th grade]

S: (sees all credited to "Jules") I'm just the scribe?!

J: And I'm just the comic relief. If this were an action movie, I'd die and you would live on to tell the tale,

scribe.

S: . . . But this isn't an action movie.

J: Exactly! So I win.

S: Exactly!

J: But take solace in the the fact that were this an action movie, you would win. [tries to remember the rest and sucks on Stellaciel's pen[

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9:42 PM 9/13/2008: Jules's tree frog

On the phone, speaking some nonsense about a song. And then Jules goes:

"Oh look! A frog! It's green! A green tree frog! Wow! I want to touch it! Come here, frog! Oh it's so cute! Look, it's flying! Wait, frogs don't fly!

" ... Sorry. I saw a tree frog. I swear it flew."

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1:21 AM 7/21/2009: The Toe Prince

It is late. We are tired. Jules is slightly ... delirious.

Jules: My toe hurts. Kiss it!

Stellaciel: [inspects toe] No.

J: Kiss it!

S: No!

J: The toe prince commands you to kiss him.

S: The toe prince is already a prince. He doesn't need a kiss.

J: But he's a toe! Kiss him

S: Look, if there's a prince and an evil witch or something turns him into a toe, then he needs a kiss to become a prince again, but your toe is already a prince, so he doesn't need a kiss.

J: ... Wait, what?

S: ... Give me your toe.

J: [suspicious look]

S: Give me your toe!

J: No!

S: Please? [snatches] Voila! [takes picture]

Jules and The Toe Prince
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11:34 PM 7/21/2009: Hasselhoff and Last Words

It is late. We are at the hospital because Jules's fingertips are throbbing, a condition that will later be revealed as vasospasms. But for the moment, we are in the waiting room and it is late.

Jules: (off-handly) On America's Got Talent, Piers and Sharon always hit the X if it's awful, but Hasselhoff always wants to see how bad it really gets. So then Piers starts glaring at him like "PRESS THE RED BUTTON!" and Hasselhoff is all like, "But I'm David Hasselhoff!"

Five minutes later ...

J: ... If I died right now, my last word would be Hasselhoff.

S: (O.O)

J: And now my last word is still Hasselhoff.

J: Isn't that funny Hasselhoff?

S: [gleeks] HASSELHOFF!

Man walks into ER. Triage nurse says he can go sit with "her."

S: I wonder why he's here. I want to know.

J: She did say "sit with her." It must be his girlfriend.

S: You should find out!

J: All right, I'll take a little peeksie when I go back there. I'll probably see something I don't want to and go AHHH!

S: But why?

J: ... It must have been something traumatic, Hasselhoff.

Old man's face contorts in aghast face.

J: Teehee. We're bad people.

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