The Bedroom Philosopher

Hello Christmas ghost!
Hello
How’s things.
Christmassy.
No doubt.
Would you like to buy a raffle ticket?
Okay. How much.
Three for a dollar.
I only want two.
You can’t buy two.
Why not?
Look, the prize is really good, just buy three you tight arse.
Fair enough, whatever.
Have you got anything smaller?
No.
Shit man do you really expect me to cash in a hundred dollar note?
Why don’t you have more change?
Well I’m planning on going to the bank to get some a bit later, but I made a special effort to come over to you first because I understand how busy you are.

Okay?
Yes okay.
Don’t worry about the money, just take two tickets, geez.
What is it anyway?
What?
The prize?
It’s a years supply of pavlova eggs.
What’s that?
It’s like a little plastic egg shape and it has all the ingredients in it to make a pavlova. They’re really good. Really handy.
But I hardly make pavlova.
That’s okay.
How many is a years supply of pavlova?
Well, how much pavlova do you eat each year?
I don’t know. How the hell would I keep track of that?
Once a month?
I don’t know. No.
Once every six months?
Um, probably more like once a year, if that.
Then you’ll only get one egg a year.
One pavlova egg. That’s my prize?
Yes.
Go away.
Fine. Good luck with Christmas, you haunty prizz.
What did you just call me?
A jaunty whiz.
Damn right.