SILVER: Come on pop. It’s
not that bad.
ME: I still feel
sick.
SILVER: Yeah. He is in
office. There’s nothing we can do.
ME: Brutally
sick.
SILVER: It happened. It’s
done. So smile. Get that humbug off that mug. Trust me. Four years will fly by
just like (snapping his fingers somehow) that!
ME: Silver, do I
have to remind you that you are a dog?
SILVER: Your point?
ME: One year to
a human is how long to a dog?
SILVER: …. Seven years.
ME: Right. So
I might have to deal with this orange skinned windbag for 4 years, but you have to
deal with him for 28!
SILVER: …. Oh… sweet … Moses.
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