BERT
The reason why the book is neat is because it’s Canadian. That movie was so not Canadian.
ERNIE
So they took a trip to New York…
BERT
New York! And the artist guy who fell in love with her! And the salamis!
ERNIE
It was a Jewish salami. There are Jews in Canada.
BERT
No, it was a New York salami.
ERNIE
There are New Yorks in Canada.
BERT
I “four” the Honker Duckie Dinger Jamboree.
ERNIE
I “five” the Honker Duckie Dinger Jamboree.
BERT
I “six” the Honker Duckie Dinger Jamboree.
ERNIE
I “seven” the Honker Duckie Dinger Jamboree.
BERT
I “eight” the —
ERNIE
You ate the Honker Duckie Dinger Jamboree?!!! HOW DID IT TASTE?!!!!
(Laughs hysterically. Feathers fill the air)
BERT
No wonder the economy’s bad — you paid for your invisible ice cream cone with an invisible nickel.
ERNIE
It isn’t the economy, Bert. It’s the monsters who go “wubba wubba.”
BERT
Wubba wubba?
ERNIE
They were poking peppermint straws through my ear sockets. When I complained, you ordered me to cogitate some balloons.
BERT
When the balloons fell softly it was enchanting, like a retirement party.
ERNIE
Yet blue, and I prefer them medium-sized and red. I mean the monsters.
BERT
Ernie, there’s a banana in your ear.
ERNIE
Sorry, Bert, I can’t hear you ‘cause I’ve got this banana in my ear. I’m staggered you taught Bernice checkers and world affairs. What outstanding ability!
BERT
No, she only won twice.
ERNIE
In how many games?
BERT
Ten.
ERNIE
Yes, but she’s a pigeon. “What is love?” I keep thinking of cement mixers.
BERT
Look, I may be no good at big thoughts but I get the cobwebby stuff between people. It’s time for honesty, and cowboy hats, and bold inspections of noses. What’s love? Not cement mixers.
ERNIE
It’s too late, Bert. The Mysterious Nose Snatcher got to me bad.
BERT
But the nose is there.
(BERT lights a match and holds it out over the carpet)
She is there, the nose. There, now.
ERNIE
I have proved to myself that she isn’t. The nose is not there.
(BERT frowns and lights another match)
BERT
She’s there for me. I don’t care whether she’s there for you or not. Whether I’m in Ann Arbor or Reykjavik or dead — I mean, in Alberta — the nose will be there.
ERNIE
I’m despondent faces on postcards.
(The match falls)
BERT
(Impatiently)
Am I…
ERNIE
Are you afraid…
BERT
Of?
ERNIE
Falling?
BERT
Not in love!
ERNIE
(Hopefully)
With me?
(Short pause. BERT laughs uneasily)
BERT
Listen, Ernie. All male-female friendships are a form of love. All male-male friendships, too.
ERNIE
Female-female?
BERT
I doubt it but it’s unimportant. Please don’t interrupt me while I’m being sage. Now. The Royal Smart Person invented the window so he wouldn’t have to go outside to see what the weather was like. But we also use the window at night when we don’t know what time it is.
ERNIE
We? I poke my head out and sing until somebody yells, “For crying out loud, it’s blank AM!”
BERT
So you see: I am the time, and you are the window, and this is a form of love.
ERNIE
I didn’t get that at all.
BERT
I was a bird once — a funny one with a flair for alphabet songs, maybe a black-bellied whistling duck. But now I think I’m more like a whooper swan. I mean prairie dog.
ERNIE
Why did we never have any pets?
BERT
Why did you take the knob off the radio and turn me down? We had no pets because you used my cowboy hat for a goldfish bowl once, and the goldfish got ideas.
ERNIE
It’s funny you should say that. Last night I dreamt there were monkeys in the bed and elephants in my chest of drawers and I gazed at them minutely through my trusty, rusty telescope. Isn’t that funny? I think so.
BERT
What did they look like?
(ERNIE ponders)
ERNIE
They looked like specks.