Something About Marvin

‘There is something about Marvin,’ Thelma thought. ‘I just can’t put my finger on it.’

“Would you mind if I put my finger on it, Marvin?” she said out loud.

“Of course, I mind,” Marvin shot back. “You think any Tom, Dick, and Harry can put their fingers on it?”

“But I’m Thelma, not any of those people.”

“Are you sure? Well, okay…go ahead.”

That was the day when Thelma put her finger right on it. And it was something, for sure.

“How many of these things do you have?” Thelma asked.

“Well, it used to be 28. But Tom, Dick, and Harry got one each. So, now it’s only 25.”

“Can I have one, too, since I’ve already put my finger on it?”

“Okay, what the hell, go ahead.”

And so it went. Everyone got one until it was all gone. That means, everyone, except Marvin. He didn’t get one, because he used to have one already.

Only So Much

“There’s only so much I can do,” Mac said.

“You’re right,” Mariah replied, as she cut off his head. “Without a head there is very little you can do.”

Mariah wasn’t one to agree with Mac on too much. But this time he was right, she thought.

Maybe she had acted a little too prematurely, she surmised after a while. With his head connected to his puny body, he could have done quite a bit. How much was debatable, but more than he would do now.

“So, how much is a Mac-head going for these days,” Mariah thought out loud.

“There’s only so much a Mac-head goes for,” Mac’s head replied.

“Yeah, you’re right, probably not a lot.”

Wondering whether it was worth keeping it, Mariah finally just tossed it into the dustbin.

“There’s only so much I can do in a dustbin,” Mac-head said.