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June 12, 2007

Dave: As if on cue

There was ... something in the air when I walked in.  Something different.

I looked at them.  Fred and Amy looked at me.

"Wasn't there ... music going on in here a minute ago?" I asked.  "Violins and trumpets and big swelling dramatic John Barry kind of stuff?"

They nodded.

I sighed.  "Why is it, when I enter the room, we get tuba farts and xylophones and jaunty little stings?"

Fred snorted.  "Count yourself lucky.  Sure, I get the big romantic swells when I'm talking with Amy -- but whenever I'm alone, I get all these ominous strings playing minor chords."  He shuddered.  "That doesn't bode well."

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