Parading Around

BJ: It was nice of V to take us out to watch the Mardi Gras parade from that fancy penthouse, wasn't it? I had a fabulous time, dahling.

LILY: Oh, please. When the fireworks went off on the balcony next to ours, you were white-faced with terror.

BJ: And you were off your face because of all that pink champagne.

LILY: Please keep the noise down. I still feel a little indisposed.

BJ: V must be feeling much the same way. I tell you what, that girl can't hold her liquor. Three glasses of champers and she's anybody's.

LILY: Well, it was the car ride home that did her in. Motion sickness. Good of you to keep her hair clear of the vomit trajectory.

BJ: I felt I owed her after I regurgitated that hunk of cat grass on her yesterday. I hope my stomach acid didn't eat a hole in her ballet shoes.

LILY: She really should've had something to eat before going to the party.

BJ: Maybe we're supposed to be feeding her, not the other way around.

LILY: I can't be bothered cooking anything. Give her a few bucks next time she comes in. She can spend it at the pub on that calamari she likes so much.

BJ: Hey, Lily, did you see this comment on the blog? Mum and Dad did get married yesterday.

LILY: Oh, hooray! BJ, we're legitimate at last! How many bottles of champagne do we have left?

BJ: Uh...one.

LILY: Good grief. That means we've drunk twenty bottles since Tuesday. Hey, what's this? Mum and Dad had replica statues of us at the ceremony? I never! Just wait till I get my claws on those Doppelgängers. I'll bite their sugary heads off.

BJ: Be my guest. I just thought of something. Let's fill the empty Bollinger bottles with sparkling apple juice. I'll recork them, and you get the aluminum foil from the drawer. Mum and Dad won't know the difference.

LILY: I knew you were good for something, BJ. But you're so good with your paws. I'll leave it all to you. I don't want to ruin my manicure.