(An apple tree along the road with a painter underneath)
Sam: Oh are you French?
Painter: What? Just because I’m painting under a tree I automatically have to be French? Isn’t that a little racist?
Sam: Umm…it was more because you spoke French.
Painter: Well this is a free country I can speak French if I want to.
Sam: Sorry I wasn’t trying to offend you miss….?
Painter: The names Eemfrig.
Sam: Well nice to meet you Eemfrig, my name is Sam. And this little guy is Waffleburner.
Eemfrig: Why do you have a parrot with you?
Sam: I keep him around for company, I’m on a little road trip right now.
Eemfrig: Hmm that’s a little pathetic.
Sam: Okay harsh, but understandable.
Eemfrig: Sorry I get cranky when I don’t eat. How does this look to you?
Sam: It looks like you’re painting.
Eemfrig: No I mean the painting itself.
Sam: Oh well it’s very pretty.
Eemfrig: Can you tell what it is.
Sam: Umm squiggles? Are they supposed to be clouds?
Eemfrig: Nope just squiggles. Well except this part is an eye with wings.
Sam: Oh that makes sense.
Eemfrig: Really now. How does that make sense?
Sam: Well isn’t it like a metaphor for a mask? Like someone hiding who they are?
Eemfrig: I think you’re looking at it a little to deeply but I appreciate the compliment.
Sam: Thanks…or I mean your welcome. Wait what?
Eemfrig: Never mind. So what are you doing out here besides stalking artists.
Eemfrig: No I mean like where are you going.
Sam: Oh. To a place.
Eemfrig: No shit? A place eh?
Eemfrig: You’re not the sharpest tack are you?
Sam: *sigh* I’m not a tack. I live in the city.
Eemfrig: What? Do you even know what a tack is?
Sam: Ya. Like those southern people with the guns and the hats and the trailer parks.
Eemfrig: That’s a hick.
Sam: The little animal that drinks your blood?
Eemfrig: That’s a tick.
Sam: Wait so what did you call me at first?
Eemfrig: A tack. Sam: I don’t see the difference.
Eemfrig: Are you kidding? They are two completely different things.
Sam: Whatever you say.
Eemfrig: Ok, let’s come back to that later.
Sam: Don’t know what there is to come back to.
Eemfrig: Anyway. What’s this place you are going to.
Sam: Oh it’s a cemetery in Plush Valley.
Eemfrig: Oh I’m sorry. Someone you knew?
Sam: Do people normally go to cemeteries to visit people they didn’t?
Eemfrig: *laughs* Good point. I guess not.
Sam: Yup. Only thing is I’m sort of lost.
Eemfrig: Oh where is it exactly?
Sam: Well I’m pretty sure it’s not an apple tree.
Eemfrig: Imagine that.
Sam: I wrote down the address on a piece of paper but I lost it.
Eemfrig: Didn’t write it down anywhere else?
Sam: Well I put it in my phone but the battery died. But I did circle it on my travel map. But I can’t read it.
Eemfrig: Oh well let me take a look at it.
Sam: No I cant read it because I lost the map.
Eemfrig: Let me guess that’s also where you wrote the address.
Sam: Oh my gosh. Are you psychic?
Eemfrig: Yup. All artists are.
Sam: I never knew…um. I don’t know if you noticed but my parrot is eating your picture.
Eemfrig: Get away from there!
Sam: I think he thinks it’s spaghetti.
Eemfrig: What? Birds don’t eat spaghetti do they?
Sam: Well he does.
Eemfrig: I guess I’ll let him finish, I wasn’t feeling it anyway. So how are you gonna make it to the cemetery?
Sam: I suppose I’ll just ask the locals, the towns not that big.
Eemfrig: Oh you’ve been before?
Sam: No but it looked tiny on the map.
Eemfrig: I see. Where’d you say you were heading?
Sam: Plush Valley.
Eemfrig: Yeah that’s what I thought. You passed it about 6-7 miles back.
Sam: Oh. *Sam sits on grass and waits*
Eemfrig: What are you doing?
Eemfrig: For what?
Sam: My car to recharge. It won’t move anymore.
Eemfrig: It’s probably out of gas.
Sam: Oh I thought you only had to fill it once.
Eemfrig: *sighs* I’ll call you a tow.