The Devil And Shirley Temple

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”
“That’s okay, Scratchy.”
“And I didn’t mean to slam the door.”
“Oh, but you did.”
“Yes, I did. You’re right.”
“I’m not mad at you anymore.”
“It’s okay if you are.”
“What can I have for breakfast?”
“That was unacceptable. My behavior was over the top.”
“You told me you were in a bad mood.”
“I did, I did.”
“How come you were in such a bad mood?”
“Things at work. It’s not important. With my boss.”
“What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over with. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Are you still in a bad mood?”
“No, no, I’m fine.”
“It sounds like you’re in a bad mood.”
“I’m not in a bad mood.”
“I don’t like it when you scream at me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I get scared.”
“I know.”
“And then I have bad dreams.”
“You know what would help, though? If you stopped talking in that voice.”
“What voice?”
“That voice. That one. The one you’re talking in right now.”
“No.”
“I don’t like it. It’s irritating. It puts me in a bad mood.”
“You just said you weren’t in a bad mood.”
“Well, now I am.”
“You’re a liar.”
“No, I’m not a liar. I wasn’t in a bad mood until you started talking in that voice.”
“So?”
“So I’m not going to talk to you if you’re going to talk in that voice.”
“Can you make me some flapjacks?”
“If you ask me in your own voice.”
“Uh-uh.”
“You know, I’m not going to let you spend time with that Jane Withers any more. She’s a bad influence on you. You go over to her house and then when you come back you act like her and you sound like her. And that’s not okay. I don’t want to live with Jane Withers. If I wanted to live with Jane Withers then I would live with Jane Withers.”
“You can’t tell me who my friends are.”
“Oh yes I can.”
“No, you can’t.”
“I can do whatever I want, little girl.”
“I want flapjacks!”
“Ask me nicely.”
“Please!”
“That’s not going to make me want to make flapjacks for you.”
“I said please!”
“Say it in your Shirley voice.”
“Please.”
“That’s better.”
“Pretty, pretty please with sugar plum fairy dust on top?”
“There’s my Shirley.”
“And you can’t scream at me any more today.”
“Fine, fine.”
“You promise, mister?”
“I promise, I promise.”
“And you have to be nice to me all day.”
“Okay, okay.”
“Can I eat my flapjacks out here in front of the radio?”
“Sure, why not.”
“Thank you, Scratchy.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I love you, Scratchy.”
“I love you too. God, you’re cute.”
“Tee-hee.”
“After breakfast let’s take a shower.”
“Okay, but I don’t want to wash my hair.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Because my curls are just perfect today.”
“Yes, they are.”
“And can I have a lolly before flapjacks?”
“Well.”
“Please? Please? Please?”
“Fine. Where are they? Here.”
“Oh, this is so yummy. I just love my lollies.”
“I know you do.”
“I’m going to savor this one.”
“Yeah. It looks good.”
“Well, are you just going to stand there all day watching me suck on my lolly, or are you going to make me some flapjacks?”
“Uh, Flapjacks, yes. Flapjacks coming right up.”
“With lots of butter.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And loads of syrup.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Hey, why are you staring at me like that?”
“What? I’m not, I’m not.”
“What are you thinking?”
“What am I thinking? Hooray for Hollywood.”

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