Beethoven, a high school student and accomplished piano player, has,
Start: Well, it’s just that you haven’t spoken to me in years. Except to call me a “faggot” or to dislocate my shoulder and all of a sudden I get a stream-of-consciousness monologue about your dead dog while I’m trying to spend the only moments of my day that don’t truly SUCK.
End: Please don’t hit me. But I could give two shits about you or your vacant mind or your morbid curiosities or your dead fucking dog, so why don’t you just leave?
For full extended monologue, see:
Royal, Bert V. Dog Sees God: Confessions of a Teenage Blockhead. Dramatists Play Service, New York, NY. 2006. p. 21.
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