good evening, peter.
no, don't get up. you know my daughter, don't you?
this is one of my invisible employees. one of the many journalists who are supposed to be writing for my newspaper. you're very fortunate to see him because i hardly ever do.
thanks, no. we're having a private little dinner in the back.
you know, i was at a dinner party * last night. and in the middle of the pudding, this four-year-old * child came in pulling a toy wagon around the table and on the wagon was a fresh turd. her own, i suppose. and the parents just shook their heads and smiled.
i've made a big investment in you, peter. time and money. and it's not working. now i could just shake my head and smile. but in my house, when a turd appears, we deal with it. we dispose of it. we flush it away. we don't put it on the table and call it caviar.
i sincerely hope so, fallow. i sincerely hope so. come, evelyn.
yes, darling. shall we have peter here come along with us?
i want to give this story our full attention, peter. it makes us look better and better, the more we do for this lamb family. poor little lambs, poor little fuzzy-wuzzy wogs. caroline heftshank intercepts them. she is very drunk.