What can I do for you?”
“I need some long johns,” explained Arthur.
“Being up at 30,000 feet too cold for you?” asked the proprietor.
“How did you know we were up that high?” inquired Sid.
“I saw you approaching over the Baltic Sea on my radar.”
“Radar?”
“I am a Britannic agent. You’re lucky you came to me and not the fishmonger down the road, he’s a Varangian spy.”
“Does he sell long johns?” asked Arthur.
“No, fish.”
“Well I would hardly likely go to a fishmonger to buy my long johns.”
“You would do if you didn’t want to freeze at 30,000 feet,” replied the shop owner.
“I thought he was called the proprietor?” Sid wondered.
“He is both,” said I.
“ooOOoo, had too much caffeine today?” noted Sid of the Author as he burbled a little.
“Do you want some Alka Seltzer for your burbling?” asked the shop owner.
“Naw,” said Sid, “I’ll just stop taking the mickey out of the Author and it should go soon after that.”
Sid’s burbling stopped.
Just then Arthur got a text.
“Who’s it from?” wondered Sid.
“It is from Arianne, she said she loves me.”
“Aww,” cooed Sid, “well it is the romance dimension after all and she did get a stronger prescription.”
“Something to do with him being difficult to live with,” mentioned the proprietor.
“Does everyone know about that,” grumped Arthur.
“Maybe,” said the proprietor, “I got an email with it in this morning.”
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