Hormone A said to Hormone B, let's confuse the heck out of her and see what she does?
Not fair said Hormone B, she's a good old gal. Rode hard and put up wet, but nice enough all these years.
You don't get it. We're on our way out, and you got sympathy here?
What?
Yeah, those ovaries are shot,
her cells are drying up, she can¹t remember ten minutes ago, but Boy
Howdy, can she go on
and on about five years
ago. We're history in a year or two. She'll try to replace us, mind you.
But as we both know, we're
irreplaceable.
Why I was re-minted yesterday. That left ovary is ticking like a Model A.
Yeah, Model A. You know they
are up to the 2001's? Besides she ain't no Model A. We'd be famous if she
was. Naah,
she's a mid-century model.
Flashy, colorful, but high on maintenance. It's the chrome, don't you know.
Well. I don't think we should
play tricks on her because she's old. Maybe we aren't what we used to be
- peppy and sexy
and thoughtful and kind
and courteous and cheerful...
Wrong, numb head. Those are
the Boy Scouts. We're talking about our old girl here. Since when was she
all those things?
It's been years. Let's see,
was it after the second kid or the second husband she got all wrapped around
it?
I don't remember much action
after either one of those. Pity we were new back then. Could have made
our mark. Could
have been contenders!
Ah, can it. She has done
okay. Raised those kids and still has the old twinkle now and again. But
we are going to have to
ease on out of here and
she is going to be lost. Best we let her practice. Ha! Let¹s start
racing around and giving her
headaches.
I don't race or rage any
more. Hard on my legs. But I can stand right here and hold my breath and
she will turn beet red and
pop out in a sweat. Watch.
Two, three, four. Wow. She is flappin' that shirt now. How'd you do that? Don't stop I'm enjoying this breeze.
Naah, she¹s okay. Let¹s leave her alone.
You know what¹s going to happen when we leave her alone?
What?
She'll get flashes and no
relief, that's what. She'll flub up her sentences and pronounce things
backwards. She'll fly off the
handle. Why she'll even
forget to mail those checks to the electric company.
No!
Yes, and after she gets really dried out...
Uh huh.
She'll lose all her social
skills. Won't know an introduction from a yawn. Won't care about nothin'.
Will go down hill and
never flirt or give a dinner
party again.
And...
She won't wear panty hose!
Or...
Shave her legs unless it's vacation week at the beach.
No!
Yes. So let's talk about
how we can ease her into this. Those synthetic
Replacements are kind of
hard to judge from here, but I heard tell they stave off the worst of it.
You know, the drying up into
a prune part with the brittle
bones snappin'.
Snapping? Like that!
Yeah. You know she should
exercise so it won't hurt so much when they go, but she is already getting
hard arteries. Makes
her stubborn. Why she used
to be so placid and pliant. Remember her pretty blond hair? Well, brother,
that's history. White
under there. Vincent, the
hairdresser, is a darlin' but that stuff he uses is too brassy.
Yeah, she looks like Lucille Ball. So what will she do without us?
A prune, my man. A disagreeable prune.
Are you sure?
Yeah. Inevitable. A shame really. And she'll never even remember how it used to be. Let's go before she wrecks the car and takes us with her. I'm outta here. You?