OLD ICE:  Give it to me straight, Doc… how long do I have?

DOC ICE:  Well… given the current temperature and whatnot, I’d say you have about six… maybe seven minutes… tops.  And that’s me being… ah, sanguine.

OLD ICE:  Sanguine?

DOC ICE:  Yes.

OLD ICE:  And what the fuck is that?   Sounds like fake vintage wine.

DOC ICE:  It has nothing to do with wine.  Sanguine is just me being optimistic about your condition, and how much time you have left on this earth.  Or in your case… how much time your have left on this linoleum floor.

OLD ICE:  Well… how much time would you say I have left if you are not being optimistic?

DOC ICE:  You are facing a real existential threat of being paper towel fodder in about ninety seconds.

OLD ICE:  Ninety seconds?  That’s not very long. Doc, is there anything you can do to change that number?

DOC ICE:  Sure… you’ll be water vapor in about a minute and a half.

OLD ICE:  Okay… now I feel better.

 

THEND