Mr. Bleakman: 
- Ahh, another perfect day. ah, but you can’t excise them without
- No, no, no. Better than perfect. cutting off a part of yourself. tsk, tsk, tsk.
- Dogless. soulless.

Mrs. Bleakman:
- Whatever you say, dear. whatever shall you do?

Mr. Bleakman:
- Violet, where is everybody? ration, first. then starve.
- The kids, and the birds, and- nation, first. then island.
and the squirrels?  your daughter hates you, by the way.

Mrs. Bleakman:
- Well, dear, the kids always & who will staff your doomsday bunker?
came here with their dogs. what garden would grow from those hands?
- No dogs, no kids.  as you eat the last apple in the world,
- No kids, no laughter. reminisce about those dog-friendly
- And Mrs. Diller always ice cream shops. the thrill of calling
brought Cleo when she comes security, a manager, the cops. someone
to feed the squirrels. who will do something about this.
- No dogs, no Mrs. Diller. the most annoying part of it all is
- No Mrs. Diller, no not having someone to hate. they’ve all died
playful squirrels. & it’s not the same with familiar faces,
- And the lady who feeds though you are no stranger to betraying
the birds always came your own kind. it’s just a preference. like
to hear the kids laugh & not tipping enough or hounding for those $3
watch the squirrels play.  back. for now, you don’t know the absence yet—
- No dogs, no laughing kids how truly fond you are of those who create
or playful squirrels. the things you enjoy. things that survive you.
- No kids and squirrels, no poof goes that inventor you needed. poof goes
lady to feed the chirping birds. the doula. poof the farmer. poof teacher. poof
- It certainly does make the place cook. for your final meal you crave cream,
quiet, doesn’t it? but the best dairy cow raisers were that color &
shape you hated. unnatural.
Mr. Bleakman:
- Yes, it certainly does. like your voice to yourself now.