NARRATOR:  Hello, today we’re speaking with Billy Backwash.  Hello Billy.

BILLY: Hello.

NARRATOR:  It has come to the attention of the WormHole Square staff that you are not happy.

BILLY:  No, I’m not.

NARRATOR:  And why is that?

BILLY:  Because I’m backwash.  I’m the liquid portion left in the cup, or bottle that is not consumed.  I’m constantly left alone to feel nothing but rejection and disrespect.

NARRATOR:  I see.  But you are what you are, Billy.  Your lot in life has been cast and the parameters are narrow.

BILLY:  Yeah, I get that.  And I’ve come to terms with being the part of the drink that nobody wants.  But it’s the non-backwash related disrespectful situations I need addressed.

NARRATOR:  Such as?

BILLY:  Such as, people calling me Fredo whenever I walk into an Italian restaurant.

NARRATOR:  I see.

BILLY:  And having my shoes spat upon while I’m in that Italian restaurant.

NARRATOR:  Well, if this was spittle from a complimentary shoeshine from a someone employed specifically for such a service, then I don’t see that as a sign of disrespect.

BILLY:  It was the waiter.

NARRATOR:  Oh… well, perhaps he had a feeling that you were an inadequate tipper.

BILLY:  I’m a great tipper.  Ask any one.

NARRATOR;  I’m sure, I’m just saying-

BILLY:  And sometimes the Maitre D’ spits on my shoes if he or she has the right angle.

NARRATOR:  Now that’s uncalled for.

BILLY:  It most certainly is.

NARRATOR:  Billy, and what specifically, if anything, are you doing when these incidences occur?  I mean, are you being rude or… telling jokes that involve uncircumcised penises or losing money at an unlicensed carnival?

BILLY:  No, no, nothing like that.

Billy thinks for a moment.  Ah, he has it.

BILLY:  Wine, I’m always drinking wine.

NARRATOR:  And do you always finish each glass of wine?

 

BILLY: No, as to not be perceived as a raving drunkard, I always leave a small portion in the bottom of the…

 

END