Vladimir: How’s everything?
Estragon: How should I know?

Vladimir: I thought you knew everything.
Estragon: I do.

Vladimir: Then let me repeat my question. How’s everything?
Estragon: Let me repeat my answer: How should I know? I may know everything—hey, there’s no may, Jose—but I don’t know how everything is right now. That would take months to figure out. And by then some of the things I said were fine, might not be fine. Maybe somebody has the old roto up their rooter. Maybe somebody’s a liar and his pants are on fire. Maybe somebody’s stuck at the Mordor Holiday Inn with a bunch of drunken orcs in the next room.

Vladimir: It seems like knowing everything would include knowing how everything is now. Otherwise, you’re not the know-it-all people say you are.
Estragon: What was the question again?

Vladimir: I’ll repeat it, although you shouldn’t have to ask. You should know it. First, because I’ve already asked it twice. And second, because it goes with the “everything” gig. Speaking of which, how’s everything?
Estragon: Fine.

Vladimir: Everything?
Estragon: Oh, did you want to know how everything is?

Vladimir: Did you know that sarcasm creates a chasm in your sar?
Estragon: Of course I knew that. I know everything, remember?

Vladimir: Come on, admit it. Nobody knows everything.
Estragon: Oh yeah? I knew you were going to say that.

Vladimir: You did not.
Estragon: And I knew you’d say that.

Vladimir: You’re a fat hea…
Estragon: You’re a fat head.

Vladimir: I said it first.
Estragon: Nope. I was a hair ahead of you. Because I knew you were going to say that.

Vladimir: Oh yeah? What am I going to say now?
Estragon: …to say now?

Vladimir: Ha! I said it first.
Estragon: I thought it first, but I had a popcorn kernel caught in my throat. By the way the g is silent.

Vladimir: Bologna. Wait a minute, what g?
Estragon: Baloney. Rhymes with abalone, Tony.

Vladimir: You know what I think?
Estragon: Of course I do. I know everything.

Vladimir: I think you don’t know anything.
Estragon: Oh yeah? Go ahead, ask me anything.

Vladimir: What’s the capital of North Dakota?
Estragon: Raleigh.

Vladimir: Sorry, the correct answer is Bismarck.
Estragon: Bologna.

Vladimir: Abalone, Tony. Raleigh is the capital of North Carolina.
Estragon: That’s what you asked for.

Vladimir: Nope. You’re just like every other know-nothing on this planet. When someone says North Carolina you think they said North Carolina.
Estragon: Do you ever listen to yourself?

Vladimir: Don’t try to duck the issue. You just proved that you don’t know anything.
Estragon: Wait a second. I know everything, which includes anything.

Vladimir: Except the capital of Montana.
Estragon: You mean North Dakota.

Vladimir: You mean North Carolina.
Estragon: You mean…Hey! Look who’s here! It’s Godot. Hey Godot, you know how long we’ve been waiting for you?

Vladimir: Don’t try to change the subject. By the way that’s not Godot. That’s Rosencrantz.
Estragon: Oh yeah? Sorry to break the bad news, but Rosencrantz is dead. So is Guildenstern, in case you were wondering. Personally, I’m not, because I know everything. Also, I have the Cliff’s Notes for Hamlet.

Vladimir: I’m not talking about Shakespeare’s Rosencrantz. I’m talking about Al Rosencrantz, the plumber. And see that guy getting out of the truck?
Estragon: Isn’t that Guffman?

Vladimir: No. That’s Rosencrantz’s partner, Mickey Guildenstern. The pipe fitter.
Estragon: Nobody names their future pipefitter Mickey Guildenstern.

Vladimir: You didn’t know it was him, did you? You thought it was Guffman.
Estragon: Tell you the truth, he looks a little like the nut-namer, Harlan Pepper. Um, where are you going with this?

Vladimir: YouTube.
Estragon: Hold your water, I got a popcorn kernel stuck in my throat.

©Patrick A. McGuire and A Hint of Light 2013-2016, all rights reserved.