The conversation between me and my daughter:
“Where the fuck is Carl?”
“I don’t see…is that Carl over there?”
“I don’t know, is he losing his shit on a branch and yelling WHERE’S JERRY? Otherwise he could be Sandra.”
“Who the fuck’s Sandra?”
“I DON’T KNOW, DON’T ASK ME.”
Okay, things were deadly quiet, but then my daughter and I noticed a skinny crow on a high branch, watching the deck balefully.
We argued about whether it was Carl or Sandra or even Jerry.