Wonderboy, inquiring about my evening plans: What will you do at twelve o’clock?
(We’ve already covered nine, ten, and eleven o’clock.)
Me: I’ll go to bed, probably.
Rilla (gasps): Twelve o’clock at night?
Rilla, incredulous: You mean there are minutes in the night??
Ooh, I Remember that Game
Who Needs a Magna-Doodle?
Okay, yeah, I’ve been there.
I Told You It Was a Mutiny
“He felt he had no choice but to side with the pencils.”