By Purry

“Gage, Christmas was a week ago. Get over it!”

"I can't..., I just can't believe you did that."

"Come on, Gage, it's the thought that counts."

"That's just it, there was *no* thought to it."

"I kno...."

"You know what gets me?"

"What?"

"I thought we were friends."

"We are!"

"How can you say that?"

“Huh?”

“Forget it!”

“No! Ever since Christmas you’ve been sore at me.”

“Darn right I’m sore. You gave me an imitation Pet Rock.”

“I gave you the *hottest* gift that was out this season?!”

“Oh, is that right? Well there’s just three things wrong with your gift choice.”

“What?”

“First, you gave me a rock.”

“A Pet Rock.”

“Stop interrupting.”

“Ok, ok, but it’s the perfect pet; no feeding, walking, vet bills, and it’ll never die.”

“Kelly!”

“Alright!”

“Second, you didn’t even put any thought into what you gave me; so that ‘it’s the thought that counts’ crap is just that, crap.”

“Well….”

“And third, it wasn’t even an original Pet Rock, it was just a dirty rock that you’d picked up off the ground and wrapped up for me.”

“Hey, I think one should adopt a pet and not purchase one from one of those snooty pet stores.”

“Chet, it’s a ROCK!”

“By the way, what’d you name it?”

“Name it?”

“That’s the problem, you haven’t begun to bond with it.”

“Bond?!”

“Sure, once it has a name then it’ll feel more like a pet.”

“You’re crazy!”

“Is it a boy or girl?”

“Boy or girl? Yep, you’re definitely crazy.”

“I think Shelia for a girl and Ralph if it’s a boy.”

“ARGH! I give up!”