From the story, Road Trip
As in:
“There you go changing the subject again,” Patrick said to Rick, with a tone of remonstration.
“Well, it makes me sad when the two of you start calling each other names,” Rick replied.
“Patrick’s just being thin-skinned,” Elsie offered. “Mary Matalin would not be a bad looking guy.”
“Even if that’s true,” Patrick said, “and I’m not saying it is, I had the floor when you bolted out of your tent in that horrendous pink thing.”
“I’m getting sad again…” Rick said, this time turning his gaze upon Patrick.
“Well, look at her,” Patrick demanded, “she’s visible from low earth orbit.”
“And just whom are we hiding from?” Elsie shot back, without even a hint of regret.
“My mother I hope,” Amanda said, emerging with a yawn from the girl’s tent, wearing Minnie Mouse slippers, University of Idaho sweatpants, and a long-sleeved t-shirt promoting a 15 kilometer fun run to support the American Lung Association.
“See, that’s what I’m getting at,” Patrick said. “I think we’re all trying to get away from the things that are haunting us in our lives.”
“Where’d the pitcher of gimlets go?” Amanda asked, apparently disinterested in the topic.
“You can’t have gimlets for breakfast,” Elsie instructed.
“Are you my mother now?” Amanda asked.
“Yes, and I want those slippers back,” Elsie replied.
“Look,” Rick said, showing his moxie by turning to Patrick’s question. “I’m not running away from the fact that we were the funniest writing team in television when our show was canceled. I know I’m well-adjusted enough to absorb the deep, inner pain of that dream-crushing vicissitude without having to go on a blue highway sojourn with my friends.”
“My god that was well put,” Elsie pronounced. “You’re the man Rick.”
“Jeezus, Elsie,” Amanda said. “What’s with that flaming pink bathrobe? Did we run out of road flares or something?”
“This is like Gilligan’s Island,” Patrick said, shaking his head in resignation. “Only without the island.”
“We also don’t have a boat,” Rick said, now stirring the small fire with the green stick he’d used the night before to toast marshmallows and point out constellations.
