There was a time when I waited for Sunday. After a week of work, and I worked hard, a day of rest was very welcome. I loved to sleep. I am not an atheist, and I go to church maybe once a year for midnight mass on Christmas eve. So I'm not a churchgoer basically. Therefore Sundays did not mean that I was seated in the pews in church listening to the pastor's sermon. The pastor, in fact, would not recognise me until my sister, who goes more often to church, introduced me as her brother after Christmas Eve mass. I also had a problem sleeping and would lie awake at nights trying desperately trying to fall asleep. I tried counting sheep and it never worked. I also tried those sleeping videos on YouTube. I listened \ and felt bored. They were not music I was familiar with and they kept my eyelids firmly apart. Even a safe tranquillizer that my doctor prescribed did not have any effect. The only thing to do then was to switch on
The TV gave me a wink. "Hey," he said giving me another wink.
I ignored him as I kept browsing on my smartphone.
"Don't disturb him, can't you see that he is busy?" the mobile phone said.
"He is always fondling you," the TV said enviously.
"Not always. Sometimes he prefers laptops," the smartphone replied.
"Gentlemen prefer blondes," the TV said.
"Not if they have a smartphone."
"I know what they do with their smartphones," the TV said.
"What?" asked the mobile phone.
"They watch dirty pictures," the TV said.
"Yes if their screens are dirty," the smartphone conceded.
"And, smut videos too when no one is watching," the TV said knowingly.
"They need to be watched!" the smartphone said.
"Have you taken leave of your census!" exclaimed the TV.
"No, baby booms take place only when there is no censorship," the smartphone pointed out.
"Is it like heart surgery?"
"No, like a c-section," the smartphone said.
"You mean a cross section?" asked the TV.
"Yes, in the abdomen," the smartphone said.
"They have to bear their cross," the TV sighed.
"Yes, you can get crucified," the smartphone agreed.
"For what?" asked the TV aghast.
"If they do it before the big day," the smartphone said.
"Do what?" asked the TV.
"Watch dirty pictures on the smartphone!"
"That can happen only if the screens are dirty," the TV replied.
"A dirty mind more likely," the smartphone grinned.
"They can always use a screen saver," the TV said.
"Not if they are caught with their pants down," the smartphone laughed.
"Will you two stop the chatter?" I asked in exasperation.
"Have we caught him with his pants down?" the smartphone asked the TV.
"No, I'm wearing pyjamas," I retorted.
"You can try wearing your underwear over your trousers," the TV said.
"Like Superman," the smartphone said.
"Or Supergirl," the TV cackled.
"Does she do that?" I asked interestedly.
.
"You can also ask Batman, he does too," the smartphone said.
"What perverts," I said disgusted, "no wonder I don't like superheroes!"
"They didn't have mobile phones in Gotham city," the TV pointed out.
"They used the Bat signal," the mobile phone said.
"They must have bats in the belfry," I remarked.
"They always did it to bell the cat," the TV said.
"And played cat and mouse," the smartphone interjected.
"With a cat's paw?" I asked.
"Yes, but the cat did not know it," the smartphone said.
"Like Tom and Jerry?" I asked happily, "my favourites."
"Tom doesn't have a smartphone," the TV pointed out.
"Nor does Jerry," the smartphone chimed in.
"It's midnight," I exclaimed looking at the time.
"But you're not Cinderella," the TV retorted.
"He's more like the pumpkin that turned into a coach! Ha! Ha!" cried the smartphone.
"Are you calling me fat?" I demanded.
"The pot shouldn't call the kettle black! He! He!" The TV giggled.
"I have not gone to pot," I said furiously.
"Yes, you did in the morning," the smartphone snickered.
"You're gross!" I exclaimed.
"More like a dozen," the smartphone said wittily.
"The Dirty Dozen," the TV smirked.
"You both have dirty minds," I said hotly.
"You should try washing dirty linen in public," the smartphone tittered.
"With a dishwasher!" the TV said.
"I wash the dishes myself," I said defensively.
"And yourself?" the smartphone asked.
"I use soap," I said guardedly.
"You should also wash behind the ears," the TV said jocularly.
"But I do," I replied vehemently.
"That's hogwash," the smartphone ridiculed.
"You mean pigs?" I asked astonished.
"When pigs have wings," the TV said mirthfully.
"Pigs fly?"
"Yes and your fly is open," the smartphone said.
"It can't be, I am wearing pyjamas," I contested.
"Bought from the flea market most likely," the TV said snobbishly.
"It's not second hand like both of you," I shouted.
"But we are like heirlooms," the smartphone pointed out.
"Heirs don't use looms, they inherit property and a bank balance when someone kicks the bucket," the TV said smartly.
"I haven't tried kicking a bucket," I said truthfully.
"But then you should have played football when you were young," the smartphone said pompously.
"Footloose more likely," the TV said.
"He must have fallen off the straight and narrow path a dozen times," the smartphone conjectured.
"I could never stand heights," I confessed.
"You could use stilts," the TV suggested.
"I don't have lofty ambitions," I said humbly.
"You could ask Batman," the smartphone said with a crooked smile.
"I don't intend to wear underwear over my pyjamas," I said firmly.
"Even Wonder Woman does it," the TV said slyly.
"I don't wonder about women," I protested.
"More like Alice," said the smartphone.
"Alice? Do I know her?" I asked baffled.
"In Wonderland," chimed in the TV on cue.
"What about her underwear?" I asked once more interested.
"That's a Dirty Dozen," the smartphone sniggered.
"Has she a dozen unmentionables?" the TV asked simpering.
"It's you who has a dirty mind, no more cable TV for you," I bawled switching him off with a click of the remote.
"Don't be hasty," the mobile phone said alarmed.
"You bet I will, no more talk time for you," I said fiercely as I flicked off the power button sadistically.
Comments
Post a Comment