Scene: the front porch of Claude and Stella Mabrey. Claude, his brother-in-law Jed, and his best friend Arney are sitting on the front porch on kitchen chairs that they saved when they bought a new dinette set.

“Warm out,” Claude commented.

“Yep,” Arney agreed.

“Nice pink flamingos you got there, Claude,” said Jed.

“Kinda dresses up the place, don’t it?”

“Looks like the one on the right is a little pinker,“ Arney replied.

“Don’t know. What do you think, Jed?”

“Can’t tell. Eyes have never been the same since I fell out of bed the night of the earthquake.”

“We never had an earthquake here, Jed,” said Claude.

“Thought it was an earthquake. Must have dreamed it. Eyes never been the same since. Can’t tell one color from another. Almost ran a stoplight once.”

“That’s bad,” Claude agreed. “I’m gonna have Bill look at it. He took art lessons once. Got a trained eye.

“What you gonna do if it is pinkeye?” asked Arney.

“Take it back, maybe buy a duck,” Claude replied.

“Thought those were a wedding present for your daughter,” said Jed.

“Was. Doesn’t matter though, she’s moving out next week.”

“She’ll probably want to take them with her, won’t she?” commented Arney.

“Naw, she said I could have them. Didn’t want them since she and Harry split up.”

Arney ran a hand over his three-day beard. “That’s really a shame, ya know,” he said.

“What? Them splitting up?” Claude questioned.

“No, that flamingo. I wonder what makes the real ones pink?” said Arney.

“Minerals,” Claude replied. “There’s mineral in the water they drink; turns them pink. Give them regular water and they turn white.”

Jed leaned back in his chair. “Damn, you oughta be on that Who Wants to Be a Millionaire? show. You know more stuff like that than anyone I know.”

Claude picked a long cigarette butt out of the ashtray, straightened it out, and lit it with an old Zippo lighter. “You know, I’ve watched every show, and I want you to know that I have answered every single one of those $100 questions right. Never missed a one.”

“You’d do good,” agreed Arney. “How come you don’t get on?”

“I’ve tried, but the line is always busy.”

“Damn shame,” said Jed. “You could be in New York right now making a million dollars.”

“Politics: that’s what it is,” said Arney. “They pick people they know can’t answer all the questions. They would go broke if they let people like Claude on the show.”

“Why don’t you ask Stella?” asked Jed.

“About the show?” replied Claude.

“No, about the flamingo.”

“Good idea, Jed. Stella!” Claude yelled. “Come out here for a minute.”

The screen door opened, and Stella stuck her head out. “What do ya want? I’m watching TV.”

Claude turned on his chair and looked at his wife. “I want you to take a good look at those two flamingos, and tell me if they’re the same color.”

“Claude, I can’t tell. My eyes have never been the same since I fell out of bed the night of the earthquake.”