GK: ......after a message from the Ketchup Advisory Board.
(MUSIC)
TR: These are the good years for me and Barb. We got round-trip tickets and a large cash settlement from the airline where the flight attendant spilled hot coffee in Barb's lap which actually wasn't all that hot but Barb had the presence of mind to scream and fall down on the floor and say "O my god" about thirty-seven times so, as I say, we got a very nice cash settlement and flew out to New York so Barb could go to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at Van Gogh and Picasso, which I don't care that much about because, you know, you can find that stuff online, but anyway we spent hours shuffling around looking at art, and then we came back to our luxurious hotel room, which was not my cup of tea, but anyway----
SS: Jim, did you forget to close the door?
TR: No, why?
SS: Oh my god, someone broke into our room. Look. The suitcase is open. Stuff strewn on the floor. The dresser drawers open. We've been robbed.
TR: Looks like our clothes are still here. And my sportcoat is still hanging in the closet.
SS: Look. They took my CDs.
TR: No. They're here.
SS: All of them?
TR: Two, four, six---- eight of them.
SS: That's all of them. Hmmm. And the headphones?
TR: Nope. They're right here.
SS: That's odd.
TR: And here's my laptop. I don't understand. It's the ultimate laptop. High definition---- touch screen......
SS: Oh my god. My novel. It's gone. The manuscript is gone, Jim! I was going to take it and drop it off at Random House tomorrow.
TR: Don't you have a copy?
SS: No, the computer crashed after I printed it and it's gone from the hard drive. Oh my gosh. I worked on that for two years. Two years!!! Gone!!! Oh I just want to cry. Ohhhhhhh-----
TR: No. It's here. On the dresser. And ---- the thief left you a note.
SS: What does it say?
TR: It says, "The big descriptive passage at the beginning is garbage. Cut to the chase. The narrative doesn't track at all. And the female protagonist is extremely unlikable."
SS: But she was based on me.
(KNOCKS ON DOOR)
SS: Who is it? (DOOR OPEN) A man with a mask.
FN: Hi. It's me. Sorry, I broke into your room. I apologize.
SS: Don't hurt us. Please. We'll give you money. Anything you want.
FN: No, thanks. Here---- I brought you some nicer shirts. Those checked shirts you got ----- I wouldn't go out in public in those if I were you.
TR: Thanks.
SS: You read all of my novel?
FN: I read enough.
SS: So you think I should rewrite it?
FN: I think you should recycle it. Sorry. Bye. (DOOR CLOSE)
SS: Oh Jim. I've been looking forward to New York for weeks and now this ---- to be rejected by a hotel thief.
TR: I think we just need to go down to the cafe and have us a sandwich, Barb. With ketchup.
SS: Oh, you're so right.
TR: Ketchup has natural mellowing agents that help us to avoid regret and believe that tomorrow is going to be better.
SS: Oh, you're so sensible sometimes.
RD:
These are the good times, from downtown to the Cloisters
Miss Liberty in a long skirt, someone ought to hoist hers.
Life is flowing, like ketchup on raw oysters.
GK: Ketchup. For the good times.
RD: Ketchup... ketchup...