BILLARY: Gentlies and Ladmen, has this ever happened to you?
Billary eats a bit of candy, throws the wrapper on the floor.
They chew on and on for a bit. Then…
Enter HILLIAM.
HILLIAM: Biliary, what are you doing?
BILLARY: (chewing) Sorry. Chewier than I expected.
HILLIAM: No. What is this that you’re doing?
BILLARY: (still chewing) Well, Hilliam. I’m demonstrating the latest mass-produced consumer monstrosity from Unicorp to this fine sampling of human capital stock.
HILLIAM: Human capital… What are you talking… (finally notices the audience) Oh. It’s one of these things then.
Biliary finishes chewing, swallows.
BILLARY: That’s right.
HILLIAM: But what’s that got to do with you littering like some lazy, littering… whatever?
Billary pulls out a broom and dustpan, sweeps up and disposes of the aforelittered candy wrapper in a nearby bin.
HILLIAM: Fascinating.
BILLARY: Indeed. And for only twenty monthly payments of eleventy dollars, this fascinating bit of modern contrivement – the Unicorp Monoticon Un-candy-wrapper-the-floor-ifier Home System – can be yours!
HILLIAM: Only eleventy dollars?
BILLARY: Not a penny more. Except for taxes, shipping, and any potential fines, fees, and court costs.
HILLIAM: The Hell you say.
BILLARY: The Hell, I do, indeed, say.
HILLIAM: But, Billary…
BILLARY: Yes, Hilliam?
HILLIAM: Why not toss the candy wrapper right into the bin instead of on the floor?
BILLARY: What?
HILLIAM: If nothing else, it seems a lot cheaper than eleventy dollars a month.
BILLARY: It’s for lazy people?
HILLIAM: Of course. But even the least financially-minded lazy person isn’t likely to bother cleaning up their own mess, even with the uniquely unimpressive cleaning power of the Unicorp Monoticon Un-candy-wrapper-the-floor-ifier Home System.
BILLARY: I spent a life savings on this.
HILLIAM: A life savings?
BILLARY: Well. Your life savings, if you want to get into specifics.
A beat. Then…
HILLIAM: (defeated) Shit.