It was a simple enough double act. He played the exasperated
husband, she was the ditzy housewife. He walked on and ask about dinner, and then for fifteen
minutes she would talk about her day until she finally hit the punchline, “I’ve
already eaten.”
They’d performed it across the country for years, and had
worked out how to wring out every last drop of comedy. He knew just how to
modulate the sigh, she knew just how long to pause before the bit with the
carrots.
Then they performed it on the new-fangled television, and
suddenly they needed new material…
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