“you know i was thinking about something this morning that’s just gonna piss you off,” the wondergeek said, pausing for a moment outside my cell.
“martin is more talented than paul,” he said and bolted, leaving me to gasp and clutch at my chest to make sure i was still breathing.
moments later he was back.
“what?” i asked.
“i was listening to some old gear daddies CDs this morning and decided that martin is more talented than paul,” he said.
“i do not deny that martin is a fun and talented man,” i said in the slow, measured voice you use to talk to the completely insane.
“he does a whole set of just neil diamond stuff,” he said as if this were some kind of logical argument.
“i know and it’s a lot of fun,” i said.
“martin has more talent in his little spam-ridden, austin-boy pinky than paul has in all his uptown hipness,” the wondergeek said.
“. . . ” i was speechless. really, how can one respond to this?
“if paul were a comic he’d be Night Nurse,” the wondergeek said pointing to the Night Nurse comic book he bought me about 100 years ago. “martin would be spiderman. that’s all i got to say.”