(ring, ring)

Aunt Becky (clearly jumping out of her skin with excitement): “Hey Fuckwad, I had a great idea!”

The Daver: “Yeah?”

(typing sounds resume in background)

Aunt Becky: “I want to buy a new house now.”

The Daver (warily) “Yeah?”

Aunt Becky: “I found a new one.”

The Daver: “What?!?”

Aunt Becky (talking faster now): “I mean, I know the market sucks but I just realized my dream house!”

The Daver (tiredly): “Where is this place?

Aunt Becky: “Well, you know that forest preserve that I love that we always pass on the way home that I always say ‘God, I love that forest preserve?’”

The Daver (warily and wearily): “….yes…”

Aunt Becky (triumphantly): “I’ve decided that we’re going to buy the Cantigny Mansion. You know, the old McCormick house? I toured it once as a kid with my parents, and I LOVED it!”

The Daver: (feels the dull thump of a migraine coming on) “Becky, it’s not for sale. It’s property of the county”

Aunt Becky: I KNEW you were going to say that! THAT’S why we have to go in with guns blazing! Give them an offer they can’t refuse!”

The Daver (rests head on desk) “Ohno.”

Aunt Becky (dreamily):“Think about it, Dave. We can be Lord and Lady of the house. I mean, I already changed my name to Princess Grace of Monaco when we got married!”

The Daver: “You know she’s dead, right?”

Aunt Becky: “So she won’t mind that I’ve taken her name. Plus, I won’t have to explain to people, I’m the OTHER Princess Grace of Monaco. See, I think of EVERYTHING.”

The Daver: You got me out of a meeting for THIS?”

Aunt Becky: “DUH. This is IMPORTANT.”

The Daver: “Dude. You’d better get this freelancing shit going soon.”

Aunt Becky: “When I am Lady of the House, I won’t have time to write any more. I’ll be too busy trying on my vast tiara collection and ordering the staff to taste my food to make sure it’s not been poisoned.”

The Daver: “I’m going to call some people to see if they’ll hire you.”

Aunt Becky: “Good luck with that.”

The Daver: “I’ll make them an offer they can’t refuse.”

Aunt Becky: “Wait a minute…”

*click*

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