Ruth considers slightly more meaningful vocalizations

Ruth sits at a little desk on stage, scratching that magnificent, definitive chin. Remember that chin. Remem.w] somehow that name, somehow that chuckle.

What if people had a receipt that came out of their heads at the end of each day? What a stupid question. What if wrapping paper can see past its own patterns? What if the newspaper is jealous, but has everything on sale?

Show us how your chin can dance!

Show us the astounding things that chin can do to so many makeshift martinis!

Ruth sits and cackles when the curly-haired gentleman indicates. Two short bursts of cackle, and something about that chin...

EVERYTHING ON SALE!!!!!! This is what came from the floor.

So Show us your many hands, and the bottles you rattle to provide rythm for my sinus infection!

MY sinus infection? I have not, nor will I ever, seen a city in that mud.

Wishful thinking about curlier brain cells?

From inside those loops and curls springs thoughts on rubbing strings, and thoughts of restful beacons shaped like wheelbarrows. A brain that sees mud puddles and curls them in to skyscrapers, in to the antarctic circle.

Oh, not oysters, but it happened twice, so perhaps it's curlier than anticipated.