Easter in Sweden, and here we are hiding in a closet. Do we get eggs? No. Extra snacks? No.
I tell you, Amber, I can’t take much more of this.
It’s not so bad Bucks. Lighten up. They’re sure to get some furniture sooner or later.
Right. While I’m still young?
You haven’t been young for years, Bucks.
Well I feel young. Young enough to escape from this architectural desert.
But what about the nice little house Willie made for us?
Right, our cardboard condo. First time someone forgets to close the door I’ll be gone like a cool breeze.
You tried that in Seattle, Bucks, and you came back with fleas.
They don’t have fleas in Sweden.
Where did you hear that?
I just know. It’s intuitive . . . animal instinct.
You’re tripping. If you used your furry head you could find new places to hide here.
I suppose you have?
I could if I wanted to. And this closet’s not so bad.
I guess if you’re in love with shoes it’s not so bad, but I’m not into that.
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