"Whaddaya mean the air conditioning’s broken?"

"Irma, it’s not working."

"Well, why isn’t it?"

 “Well, Dear, as I am not the air conditioning unit, I can’t tell you why it’s not working.  Maybe you’d like to ask it."

"Think you’re so smart, don’t you, Mr. Smartypants?"

"On the contrary, or I would never have married…IRMA, what are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"It l..looks like you’re pointing a gun at me."

"Right, again, Mr. Smartypants.”

"But you…can’t.  I mean…"

"Yes I can."

"Okay, you can.  But why?  What good does it do to point a gun at me?"

"It makes me feel good—that’s what.  And you know something, Dear?"

"Guess not."

"It would probably make me feel a lot better if I pulled the trigger."

"Irma, how can you say such a thing?"

"Easy."

"Okay, Okay. Okay…what do you want me to do?  It’s 10:00 o’clock at night."

"Let’s go to a motel."

[Silence]

"You heard me.  Let’s…"

"Yeah, I heard you, but…"

"It’s cool there…and there’s room service."

"You’re still pointing that…"

"Oh.  Right.  Sorry."

                                              Later at the motel…

"Well, Irma, here we are.  It’s freezing in here.  You oughta like that."

"No, it’s too cold.  I’m turning it up.  I don’t like extremes of any kind."

"You pointed a gun at me and you don’t like extremes?"

"That was different."

"You can say that again."

"Well, get the wine and let’s…"

"What wine?"

"You didn’t bring it?"

"Irma, what is this?  I am not a mind reader.  What?  What’s the matter?  You crying?  Don’t…don’t do that.  Why’re you crying?  Come on, let’s go to bed.  Watch a little TV.  You’ll feel…"

"I Want Some Wine."

"I don’t think this motel has any wine."

"Well, just call down and ask them!"

"At 11:00 …"

"Yes.  We’re the guests, remember?  Paying guests?"

"Okay."  [calling] "Hello, Room Service, this is room 608.  We would like a bottle of Merlot sent up,
please. No wine. I see. Nothing alcoholic?  Oh.  What’d you say? Milk shakes?  ha ha ha  Uh, come to think of it, that sounds pretty good.  Yes, two, please. Um, chocolate.  Yes, thanks." [Hangs up.]  "Er, Honey? Guess what?"

"I heard."

"Well, they don’t have any, and chocolate milks hakes sound pretty good, don’tcha think?"

"So does a trip to Rome, but I want wine."

"Irma, it is 11:20.   Where am I going to find someplace open that sells wine?"

"I don’t know.  Ask the guy at the desk."

[Calling.]  "Hello, Desk?  This is room 608; do you know any place that sells wine at this hour? Hotel bars… by the drink… can’t leave premises with... Got it.  Okay, thanks.  …….. Irma?  You heard?"

"Z z z z z z"

[Knock knock]

"The milk shakes.  Hi. Let’s see; here you go.  Thanks.  Good night.  Irma, wake up. Milk shakes."

"Huh?   What? WHAT?"

"No wine.  Milk shakes. Here."

"UMMMM"

"UMMMM.  Good, huh?"

"Umm.  Come here, Honey Pot."

"Hon…?"