Tired Cultured Lady (exophonically, formally-versally, theatrically): A myth! It’s been revealed to her what part she got when she was born! A truth! For when we’re born, we’re handed scripts for parts we are to play! Forsooth! For real, it is foregone she’d be forsaken and forlorn! A play! Her part in life would be The One Who Got Away!
Travelodge Owner (silently, smokily): I stole your thermos from your room. Your room! You only call it that. A myth! Forsooth! It is my room! My paranoia will be yours. A truth! I wear sunshades inside, for I am dangerous like that! I stole your thermos, Cultured Lady! Prove it now! Up yours.
Tired Cultured Lady (approachingly): Oh yes! It thickens: she will not be cursed to be alone for life! A twist! She can have husbands if they do not love her in the least! A play! I’ll write a classic play about her plight, about her strife! Forsooth! I’ll speak a mighty truth! (SEES TRAVELODGE OWNER) That thermos’s MINE, YOU BEAST!

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