THE FAT MAN—I tell you we get them before they're written.
THE SICK MAN (indignantly)—How can you do that?
THE FAT MAN—I wish you wouldn't ask me. The answer's awfully complicated. You've got to know a lot of higher math. Wait and ask Euclid about it. We don't have any past and future, you know. None of that nuisance about keeping shall and will straight.
THE SICK MAN—Well, I must say that's quite a stunt. You get shows before they're written.
THE FAT MAN—More than that. We get some that never do get written. Take that one of Ibsen's now, "Merry Christmas"—
THE SICK MAN (fretfully)—Ibsen?
THE FAT MAN—Yes, it's a beautiful, sentimental little fairy story with a ghost for the hero. Ibsen just thought about it and never had the nerve to go through with it. He was scared people would kid him, but thinking things makes them so with us.
THE SICK MAN—Then I'd think a sixty-six round Van Cortlandt for myself.
THE FAT MAN—You could do that. But why Van Cortlandt? We've got much better greens on our course. It's a beauty. Seven thousand yards long and I've made it in fifty-four.
THE SICK MAN (suspiciously)—Did you hole out on every green or just estimate?