"Greta, I've been thinking of doing a movie of 'White Noise'!"
"Really?"
"Yeah. Why ... ??"
"Because that's a really STUPID idea, Noah ... !!!"
"How so," he says, leaning in like he's INTERESTED. Elbows on the BREAKFAST *TABLE*. Brushing some Lucky Charms™ off onto the FLOOR — they just had breakfast with the KIDS, a few minutes ago.
She watched this happen — she *KNOWS* someone's going to have to pick THAT up. (eye ROLLS) Not looking up, she says "Because it's a crucial text in semiotics if not-just-QUITE fiction, and at 400-plus PAGES, you could never really cram it into *two HOURS* — " She leaves her hand upturned and OPEN, in a "how could you" gesture, and leaves it at that.
"Oh," he says, his head in his hand on the TABLE, kind-of MUTTERING, and not really *LISTENING* ... "I hadn't thought of that. By the way, have you seen the Sports™ page??"
He never really listens to her. *And I'm going to have to pick up that Lucky Charm™, too*, she thinks. *I just KNOW it*!!!
THE END
"Come on down ... !!!
"NEXT *WEEK*, on 'Our House' with Greta and NOAH ... "
Noah learns to fix a LAWNMOWER ... !!!
"Greta, how do you put OIL in this thing ... ??
"Why, Noah — didn't your mom teach you *anything* ... ??"
"No, she was too busy writing for 'The Village VOICE,'" he says, then adds: "You stupid cunt."
"I went to Barnard!"
"Fuck you!"