London: Hello. London here.
Some guy: London who?
London: London, England. The town of London.
Some guy: I see. What do you want, then?
London: Well, I thought you'd be interested in my opinion.
Some guy's wife: (Muted, from the next room.) Who is it, Steven?
Steven: It's London, dearest. London's calling.
Steven's wife: Oh, fine then. Tell 'em I say hello.
London: Ahem. About that opinion.
Steven: Margerie says 'ello.
London: Yes. Thank you. Anyway, right. You, sir, are a homosexual.
London: Yes, a real queer you are.
Steven: Look, just because you're the big city--
London: A back-door boy, a penis polisher, a flaming little queen.
Steven: But I've got a wife. Nineteen years this September.
London: Well, I'm sure you've taken many steps to deny your own nature over the years, but it's time to fess up. You're gay, don't you know?
Steven: Well that's just grand. Couldn't you have called during my more experimental years? Say when I was at university?
Margerie: What's the matter, Steven?
Steven: It's London, dearest. Says I'm homosexual.
Margerie: Oh. Well that's not very good news, is it? What will the children say?
London: Sorry not to bring this up earlier, sir. It's quite a long list I have to go through. I'll leave you to sort out the details. Ta.
Steven: Right. Goodbye then. Thanks for the call.
A humbabba-rescued nodeshell--your donations at work.