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dusty: A stitch in time saves nine. The early bird gets the worm. Can't get started too soon on these things. (He sweeps the playboard, raising dust.) yank: Why? (Cough, cough!) Why are you always sweeping the forest floor! dusty: It's so messy. Twigs and leaves and stones lying around. yank: But they lie where they fall. It's meant to be that way. dusty: Oh no, these things have to be rearranged, tidied up. That's our mission in life, Yank. yank: How can you say that! On a beautiful morning like this, when Mother Nature has arranged things so perfectly— (He turns to survey forest, starts at sight of billboard, turns back to front, stiff with shock.) What—what is that? |
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