Josha and the Marching Oboe Band

   It was a bright and hypothetical morning. Josha got out of his bed and stretched. The birds chirped in the trees and his pager beeped out a simple rhythm. He checked his pager and then picked up the phone and dialed.

   "Hello!" said an annoyingly cheerful voice.

   "Is this Agnes?" he asked, still half asleep.

   "Yes! Josha, would you like to go see me play my oboe in the marching oboe band at WSU?! I'll pay for your ticket, give you a ride there, and buy you a four-star dinner!"

   "Uh, sure," he scratched his head, "Do you still have my shoes?" Agnes has amazingly large feet and is constantly stealing Josha's shoes.

   "Yeah! Do you want them back?! I could give them to you tonight!"

   "Sure. And how about coming over to my house everyday of this week, just so I won't feel obligated to speak to you for the entire month of June?" He lay back in his bed and closed his eyes.

   "Cool!" said Agnes, "See you tonight, honey."

   "Bye, honey," he said.

   After the phone call, Josha very slowly got dressed, ate breakfast, brushed his teeth, and thought of turnips. Agnes made about a thousand phone calls trying to interpret her conversation with Josha.

   While all this is going on, Josha's phone rings.

   "Hello," said Josha.

   "Hi, this is Elvis. I just landed here from my vacation on Mars and I need a place to hide out."

   "Cool," said Josha.

   "So, it's okay if I stay at your house?"

   "We don't have any room," said Josha, "but it's cool that you're here."

   After about 15 minutes of trying to start a conversation with Josha, Elvis gave up and tried phoning someone else.