We depart from our scheduled format to offer this afterthought pursuant to the preceding dramatic-comedic foray. But only because I promised, and you know how you get!
The scene I’d always wanted to write, that Marvin told me to put into the script, was (of course) the picnic in the city dump, a love scene avec rodents. Always thought that would’ve made a super date. I suggest this sort of creative romancing is a salutary tonic to all the dopey books by gentlemen with goiters and ladies with too much eye makeup that tell you how to spice up your moribund marriage by dressing up as Queen Zenobia of the Martian Amazons and her drooling love-slave Gorgo.
Now stop nuhdzing me.