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BowWow: Jesus H. I feel like I’m riding in a semi, here. A big nut size Bulldog. Hey, smart guy in front, what’s our handle, see any Smokies up there? Give us the word, Good Buddy.

Minnie: Don’t bother him. He’s trying to drive safely in the rain.

BowWow: Yeah, well, they’re up there with their big seats and their console and their coffee and all their shit plugged in. It’s like they put two La-Z-Boys in a giant box with a steering wheel. Meanwhile, we’re back here on this fucking bench.

Minnie: At least we’re not in the back. You know. Where they put the cargo.

BowWow: Cargo? Cargo? What cargo? You can’t really think he bought this truck to haul cargo. Good Lord, Minnie, how much of a sap can you be?

Minnie: Well, she’s doing that Time of the Month Club thing now. You know. Getting those things for homeless women.

BowWow: Oh, okay, I get it. He bought an F150 to haul Tampax around town. What a prince of a guy. Minnie, wait right here while I figure out how to roll the window down and fling myself on to the highway. Where’s a fucking bus when you need one? Hit me with a bus, for God’s sake. Cargo.

Minnie: You need to calm down. Stop being so dramatic. So incendiary. They’re going to start thinking we’re unhappy back here.

BowWow: We ARE unhappy back here.

Minnie: No, they’ll think we’re unhappy and they’ll stop asking us to come along. They’ll just assume we’d rather stay in the kennel.

BowWow: Yeah. Doggy prison. It’s lookin’ good right now. Like a big Va-cay. Dog treats. Romping with the opposites. Beats this rolling nightmare of rain and classical music. Endlessfuckingness. We don’t even know where the fuck we’re going.

Minnie: Just trust them, BowWow. That’s what I do. And it always turns out nice.