Charles slammed his empty mug onto the bar. "What is that quarterback doing?!"His bar-mate, who, had Charles asked, would have said that his name was Sam, spilled his beer on the bar. "Whoo hoo! My team scored again!""Would you too keep it to a dull roar? Some of us are trying to concentrate!" Jerry called from the pool table; he was just a shot away from taking the evening's purse and had no stake in the game playing on the screen."What'd you say? Can't you see that the quarterback is an oaf?!"Sam held up his hand, the universal signal that indicated the need for a refill. Once it was secured, he sipped, wiped foam from his lip, and replied with a chuckle, "He's not an oaf; he's just helping my team is all."Jerry took the small knot of money from his opponent and moved to the bar to join Sam and Charles. "So who's playing?""What?!?" For the first time all evening, Charles and Sam were on the same page. Charles piped up quickly, "It's the Super Bowl, man. Do you live under a rock?!"Jerry sniffed, "Makes no difference to me," and patted his pocket. "I've got mine handled.""You what?" Sam wiped another foam mustache away. "How can you already have your money--the game's not over yet!"
Sorry. It couldn't be helped. If you must lay blame, lay it squarely at the feet of the pixies at the Daily Post, who sent me this demand on the day of the biggest US football game of the season:
Write a post that includes dialogue between two people — other than you. (For more of a challenge, try three or more people.)
Since I have no stake in this sport (and it involves no automobiles, spacecraft, robots, aliens, or curling teams), I decided to invoke a three-way conversation about the Super Bowl in the local beer 'n beverage constabulary. Or somesuch. You decide if it worked, yeah?