Yesterday I wrote some non-dialogue fiction, so today I’m doing only dialogue. But first, here are a couple of links you might like (I’ll try to give them more attention in the future).

But now, on with the writing. This is just a short conversation between two people. It’s inspired by a real conversation I had with a fellow a few months back.

“I like Bushmills”

“Hmm. Bushmills is the fighting whiskey. Jameson’s is the contemplative whiskey.”

“Huh. I never really thought of it–”

“I was here with a bunch of guys two weeks ago, and they were out of Jameson’s. Hell, we wanted an Irish whiskey toast, and so we bought Bushmills. Bad idea. A half hour later, our asses are being hauled out of the place by a blonde bouncer who looks like a cross between Bluto and Pete Frampton. The 70s Frampton, not the guy playing in Vegas.”

“Uh huh.”

“And you know what we were arguing about? This is ludicrous. Someone said that Mark Hamill was just as good as Harrison Ford in Star Wars.”

“He was.”

“You’re an idiot, and that’s beside the point. Wait, no it isn’t! If we were drinking Bushmills right now, you’d be ready to shove me into one of those pool table pockets. But, we’re drinking Jameson’s, so you’re just mildly disgusted that I’m right and you’re wrong.”

“In fact, I’m drinking Bushmills, if Mark Hamill hadn’t screwed his face up in a racing accident he’d be just as famous as Harrison Ford, and I couldn’t fit your fat ass into that pool pocket if Einstein and Bohr came back and warped space like Play Doh. But you were saying something about whiskey?”

“Well. Yeah. Sorry, the image of Niels and Albert in a bar has got me befuddled. How long do you think it would take them to call a shot, I wonder? I mean, would Bohr be like ‘Albert, the bank shot or the corner, you’re taking a chance either way’, and then Einstein says ‘There’s no chance involved, except maybe the chance you’ll shut up and let me shoot.’”

“Except Al’ would have said it much cooler than that.”

“Yeah. Yeah, he would have.”

“Well, I say, to each his own. I’ll take my Bush Black. And I’ve never gotten into a fight over it.”

“But admit it, you feel a little riled. And me, I’m just wondering why that guy’s been staring at you for the last five minutes like you’ve developed rainbow colored cancer.”

“Who?”

“Uh, the other guy in this bar drinking Bushmills. He looks a little pissed.”