Improving – David Lohrey

What is it about Tobey that makes him such a shit?
Do you know? Do you care?
Or do you intend to just give me a lot of shit?
Because I will tell you something, I think you are the shit.
You mean everything to me. Ev-er-y thing, do you hear? Ev-er-y thin-gu.

And the answer, the answer is yes. Give me your bank account number,
and we will be in business. Let me know your bank balance and away
we’ll go. How’s that? Do you know your ABC’s?
Chinchilla or rabbit, you decide. An RV or a wagon?
St. Louis or just off Madison Avenue? City-boy?
It’s a matter of how much dough you’re willing to lay out.

Right? Right? Am I right? Six-hundred will get you something
down there, but here? Here it’s shit.
Dive in.
Learn to swim. See what I mean?
On the other hand.…you will need a car.
Black would not be suitable for the burbs.

Talk to the Seidels, they’ll know. Their son is at Country Day.
No, that’s their cousin. Right, Dr. and Mrs. Burson;
they own that toy store.
Not since the divorce.
She’s probably out at Wildwood Farms, that’s
where she keeps her horses.

He has a few ponies tucked away in Ithaca,
but he’s down at his dad’s banana plantation for the summer.
He’ll want his horn back. Check with Mary.
That is exactly why I think he is a shit.
I figured you’d know. You don’t?
They’re getting married.

Call. Try again. Get Burson; he’s the best.
Yes, yes, at Washington. I don’t think they paid
more than four or five, tops. You can get it for six.
Well, it’s huge. Exactly. Everyone has a gun.
We keep a shotgun in the sideboard.