The child pushed my hammock so as to awaken me.
“What,” I said, as politely as I could, “do you want?”
“I’m the boss,” it said.
I waved it away and rolled to present it with my back. “If you wake me up again the angels will pee on you.”
“I’m the boss of the angels.”
“No, you are a mere child, and insignificant.”
“What are you doing?”
I turned and looked at it. “Go away.”
“You should be doing something.”
“I’m doing un-something. Did you make poopsies?”
“Yes. Don’t talk about it.”
“OK. Do you feel better now?”
“Yes! Don’t talk about it!”
“OK. What color was it?”
“Toby!”
“What?”
“Don’t talk about it!”
“OK.”
“Don’t say OK!”
“All right.”
“Don’t say all right!”
“Very well.”
“Don’t say very well!”
“As you wish.”
“Don’t say as you wish!”
“D’accord.”
“Dis pas ça non plus!”
“Très bien.”
“Non!”
“Comme tu veux.”
“Non et non et non!”
“Va bene.”
“What’s that?”
“Italian.”
“What does it mean?”
“I don’t know if I should tell you.”
“Tell me!”
“I’d better not.”
“Toby!”
“You might find it upsetting.”
“Toby! Tell me!”
“Don’t be a little Bossy-Boots.”
“I’m not a little Bossy-Boots!”
“You’re not?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because I say so.”
“Well, goodbye now.”
“I’m gonna killocate you!”
“OK, give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“Just give it to me.”
“Why?”
“I have to call the police.”
“Why?
“Because you’re going to killocate me.”
“So?”
“You have issued a threat. Give me the phone.”
“Here, booger-brain.”
“Thank you. What country are we in?”
“Greece.”
“Do they have 911 here?”
“I don’t know! Try!”
“Hello? Do you mind if I speak English? Thank you. Could you send two policemen over to—Where are we?”
“The Sea View Hotel.”
“—the Sea View Hotel? A young lady here has just threatened to kill me.”
“I didn’t! I said I’d killocate you!”
I held the instrument to my chest—“I’m on the phone!”—and put it back to my ear. “Tell them to have their guns out. She might try to resist. Yes, I’ll hold.” To the child I said, “They’ll put you in jail for years. You won’t be able to go to school and learn things. But I’ll come and visit you every month and bring you a magazine to read. Hello? Yes, I’ll keep her here till they arrive.”
The child grabbed my wrist and seized the thing. “Toby! The phone isn't even open!”
“I was just practicing. One more word out of you, young lady, and you go to bed without your supper.”
“Why are you so stupid?”
“It's boring to have to explain oneself.”
“It’s stupid to be stupid.”
“I’ll just have to live with it.”
“I could teach you to be not stupid. It’s easy.”
“I don’t want to know,” I yawned.
“Toby, would you really call the police on me?”
“Sure. Be good for you.” I put my hat over my face.
“You have to not do that.”
“OK.”
“Don’t say OK.”
“Mm.”
“Toby!”
“Mm?”
“Be alert!”
“OK. What’s a lert?”
Ladies and Gentlemen,
There are Toby moments on YouTube, and you can get your Toby books right here.
Make ya laugh.
Robert MacLean is an independent filmmaker. His recent The Light Touch is on Amazon Prime, Tubi and Scanbox, and his 7-minute comedy is an out-loud laugh. He is also a novelist, a playwright, a blogger, a YouTuber, a film reviewer, a literary critic, and a stand-up comic poet. Born Toronto, PhD McGill, taught at Canadian universities, too cold, live Greece, Irish citizen. No brains, but an intellectual snob.
“I was beastly but never coarse. A high-class sort of heel.”
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