Dorje Drollo comes in. Dorje Drollo!
He looks around the kitchen. He sees that the oven is on. He looks closely at what is in here, cooking, bubbling.
"Chicken pot-pie?" he asks loudly.
"Chicken pot-pie." I reply.
"Chicken POT-PIE!!?!" Dorje Drollo roars, laughing, knocking a pot down.
"CHICKEN POT-PIE!!!" I yell, half laughing.
"CHICKEN POT-PIIIIIIEEEEEE!!!!" screams Dore Drollo, sparks flying off his eyebrows, the house shaking to the foundation.
"CHICKEN POT-PIE!!!!" I scream, holding onto the fridge for dear life.
"Sounds good." says Dorje Drollo, when the dust has settled.
Babies are crying downstairs. I think the cops are coming to the front door.
"Yeah, it is good." I reply. Because it is.
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