Mr Dupree’s Audition

“Your name?”

“Marcus Horatius Dupree. Known to all friends and relations as Hooter.”

“Ah. Because you are an owl?”

“No. Because I am an enormous breast. Of course, because I’m an owl.”

“Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, Mr Dupree. And in what role are you interested?”

“Cinderella.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m interested in the part of the owl, sir. For what other part would I possibly audition?”

“One doesn’t like to offend through assumption, Mr Dupree.”

“I am not offended when others note that I am, in fact, an owl.”

“No, of course not.”

“I am not ashamed to be an owl.”

“Or course not, no.”

“My parents were owls.”

“Yes.”

“And my grandparents.”

“Yes.”

“Before that, hell if I know. Pretty sure they weren’t canaries.”

“Yes, well–”

“Any canaries associated with this undertaking?”

“Not as yet.”

“Good, good. Not that I have anything against canaries. Quite amiable fellows, some of them. Useful down the mines. Always singing.”

“Indeed.”

“Or am I thinking of the Welsh?”

“Perhaps we might return to the audition, Mr Dupree?”