ICKLES is a ghost, who, at various times, appears to MARY as; a Scottish bagpiper, the Sugar Plum Fairy, and – at this moment – a Mexican bandit. ANOTHER DUMB GHOST STORY has crisscrossed the United States so many times that the logo is registered.
MARY: Are you really a ghost?
ICKLES: WHY does everybody always ask that question?
MARY: Why don’t you wear a sheet and go around clanking chains, like you’re supposed to?
ICKLES: I like that. You meet one ghost, and already you’re telling him how to dress.
MARY: I didn’t mean anything personal.
ICKLES: Would you take off all your clothes and run around the neighborhood with only a sheet wrapped around you?
MARY: I guess not.
ICKLES: I guess not indeed.
MARY: I’m sorry.
ICKLES: I accept your apology. We won’t mention it ever again.
MARY: Well, it’s been fun talking to you, Mr. …
ICKLES: Ickles. Just Ickles.
MARY: Pardon me, but …
ICKLES: Yes?
MARY: Don’t you have someplace you can go?
ICKLES: Not really. Do you?
MARY: I’m there!
ICKLES: Me too. Isn’t it nice?
MARY: You can’t stay here.
ICKLES: Why not?
MARY: Because I’m tired and I want to go to bed.
ICKLES: A good place to go when you’re tired.
MARY: Look, Ickles. I’ve had a rotten day, a long drive, and – thanks to you – a fight with my landlady. I may be evicted in the morning! I ache, I’m tired, and I’ve reached the end of my rope! If you don’t leave – now – I’m going to start throwing things! Do you read me, mister?!
ICKLES: Loud and clear, SIR!
MARY: Then you’ll leave?
ICKLES: No.
MARY: A-a-a-h!
ICKLES: Don’t get mad at me. It’s your fault. You’re the one who brought me here. You’re the only one who can send me back.
MARY: I did not, by any stretch of the imagination, bring you here.
ICKLES: I beg to differ with you, but you did.
MARY: I did not.
ICKLES: Yes you did.
MARY: I didn’t.
ICKLES: You did.
MARY: Didn’t.
ICKLES: Did. I win!
MARY: Alright, if I can send you away, I order you to go. Be gone. Scat. Poof!
ICKLES: Am I gone?
MARY: No.
ICKLES: You must be doing something wrong.
MARY: Oh, you noticed that?
ICKLES: Do you know any magic words?
MARY: What magic words?
ICKLES: You know. Magic words.
MARY: You don’t mean abracadabra, and things like that?
ICKLES: I don’t?
MARY: That’s silly.
ICKLES: Okay. Which side of the bed do you want? Personally, I like the side toward the bathroom …
MARY: I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I just think it’s silly.
ICKLES: It’s worth a try. Hey, I’m as anxious to get this over with as you are. I certainly have no desire to stay where I’m not wanted.
MARY: Okay. But promise me you won’t laugh. What am I saying? I’m trying to think up words I don’t know, to get rid of somebody who isn’t even here. Why am I doing this?
ICKLES: When you figure it out, wake me.
MARY: Abracadabra! Alacazam-shazam! Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat! By the shores of Gitchee-Goomie.
ICKLES: Mary! Something’s happening …
MARY: What?
ICKLES: I don’t know. I have this strange feeling in the small of my back.
MARY: You’re sitting on your spurs.
MARY: Are you really a ghost?
ICKLES: WHY does everybody always ask that question?
MARY: Why don’t you wear a sheet and go around clanking chains, like you’re supposed to?
ICKLES: I like that. You meet one ghost, and already you’re telling him how to dress.
MARY: I didn’t mean anything personal.
ICKLES: Would you take off all your clothes and run around the neighborhood with only a sheet wrapped around you?
MARY: I guess not.
ICKLES: I guess not indeed.
MARY: I’m sorry.
ICKLES: I accept your apology. We won’t mention it ever again.
MARY: Well, it’s been fun talking to you, Mr. …
ICKLES: Ickles. Just Ickles.
MARY: Pardon me, but …
ICKLES: Yes?
MARY: Don’t you have someplace you can go?
ICKLES: Not really. Do you?
MARY: I’m there!
ICKLES: Me too. Isn’t it nice?
MARY: You can’t stay here.
ICKLES: Why not?
MARY: Because I’m tired and I want to go to bed.
ICKLES: A good place to go when you’re tired.
MARY: Look, Ickles. I’ve had a rotten day, a long drive, and – thanks to you – a fight with my landlady. I may be evicted in the morning! I ache, I’m tired, and I’ve reached the end of my rope! If you don’t leave – now – I’m going to start throwing things! Do you read me, mister?!
ICKLES: Loud and clear, SIR!
MARY: Then you’ll leave?
ICKLES: No.
MARY: A-a-a-h!
ICKLES: Don’t get mad at me. It’s your fault. You’re the one who brought me here. You’re the only one who can send me back.
MARY: I did not, by any stretch of the imagination, bring you here.
ICKLES: I beg to differ with you, but you did.
MARY: I did not.
ICKLES: Yes you did.
MARY: I didn’t.
ICKLES: You did.
MARY: Didn’t.
ICKLES: Did. I win!
MARY: Alright, if I can send you away, I order you to go. Be gone. Scat. Poof!
ICKLES: Am I gone?
MARY: No.
ICKLES: You must be doing something wrong.
MARY: Oh, you noticed that?
ICKLES: Do you know any magic words?
MARY: What magic words?
ICKLES: You know. Magic words.
MARY: You don’t mean abracadabra, and things like that?
ICKLES: I don’t?
MARY: That’s silly.
ICKLES: Okay. Which side of the bed do you want? Personally, I like the side toward the bathroom …
MARY: I didn’t say I wouldn’t do it. I just think it’s silly.
ICKLES: It’s worth a try. Hey, I’m as anxious to get this over with as you are. I certainly have no desire to stay where I’m not wanted.
MARY: Okay. But promise me you won’t laugh. What am I saying? I’m trying to think up words I don’t know, to get rid of somebody who isn’t even here. Why am I doing this?
ICKLES: When you figure it out, wake me.
MARY: Abracadabra! Alacazam-shazam! Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat! By the shores of Gitchee-Goomie.
ICKLES: Mary! Something’s happening …
MARY: What?
ICKLES: I don’t know. I have this strange feeling in the small of my back.
MARY: You’re sitting on your spurs.
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