Waiting for Magglio

- Nothing to be done.
- I’m beginning to come round to that opinion.

- Stupid Big Tilde, making us wait. grumble grumble.

- Ha ha ha!
- Ha ha ha! (aside) Who’s the creepy old guy?

- Ma’am.

- … and then the Big Tilde pushed the waters of the Detroit River aside with his bat. Woosh! And that’s how we got that baseball back.
- ooh.
- ooh.

- I swear to Kaline, I will slap that frown off your face myself if you don’t clean up your act before the Big Tilde gets here.

- Whee! Tilde’s coming! Tilde’s coming!

- See? You can’t escape this place! We wait until the Big Tilde arrives.

- Are you sure this isn’t the Big Tilde’s baseball? Something seems off with it. Is it a radish?

- No no; Ziggy was on “Quantum Leap”. I’m talking about the French playwright.
- I don’t get it. So Sam jumped into the body of a French playwright? I thought he could only jump into Americans.
- No, they have the same name.
- There’s a French playwright named Ziggy? Those French sure are odd.
- (sighs)

- HA HA HA OH I LOVE WAITING FOR BIG TILDE I HOPE HE COMES SOON (oh god is he looking still?)

- I don’t mind waiting at all.
- Agreed. We shall wait for him again tomorrow and tomorrow and to…
- shh! Ixnay on the Akespeare-Shea.
- oops.

(All photos in this one act play belong to the Associated Press, due in large part to the hard work of Duane Burleson. Mad props.)