
“Don’t you just love Click and Clack, the Tappet Brothers? Those jolly elves from Boston who know more about your car than MacDonald’s does about hamburgers?
“Um, no.”
“What? You don’t cherish those lovable buffoons, not a mean bone in their body, as ready to spring to your aid as a St, Bernard to a skier in distress?”
“Include me out.”
“What can you possibly not love about them?
“They laugh too much. (Mutters) Pair of laughing hyenas.”
“My friend, you have a character defect.”
(Looks down.)
“Not liking Click and Clack is... un-American!”
(Sighs.)
“Say something!
“How about laughing jackasses?”
“I see, a hard case. You think the world has too much happiness in it?”
“Oh, no! There isn’t nearly enough happiness in this sad world of ours.”
“You just hate laughing. You and the grinch!”
(Hangs head.)
“Cat got your tongue?”
“I never liked that turn of phrase.”
“What do you like, my friend?”
“I like my friends. Am I your friend?
“I doubt it.”
“But twice, you said, ‘my friend.’”
“Just an expression.”
“Oh.”
“You have to admit that they know a lot about cars.”
“That, I do. They’re living breathing automobile repair manuals.”
“If you lived in Boston you’d like ‘em. You’d need ‘em to fix your car.”
(Wrinkles brow.)
“Well, wouldn’t you?”
(Shakes head, ‘no.’)
“Why not?”
“I don’t trust either of them.”
“How can you not trust such teddy bears? Didn’t you ever have a teddy bear?”
“Sure did. Loved him, too. But he never laughed.”
“Is that why you’re anti-laugh?”
“Oh, no. I’m pro-laugh. Just need a joke, or something funny.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. Have you ever heard of laughter therapy?”
“Vaguely, I think.”
“‘Course you have. You feel low, start laughing. No jokes. Just laugh. Pretty soon you feel great.
“Wouldn’t work for me.”
“Have you tried it?
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
“I never tried to eat raw monkey brains, but know I wouldn’t like it.”
“Not the same. We’re talking Click and Clack here, the Tappet Brothers.”
“They laugh too much.”
*