April 11th, 2002. - 11:19 p.m.

A. is a master of humour.

A. and I are unstoppable. We are the modern public spectacle. Our scenarios and various skits are genius, and ought to be broadcast to the general public. We would educate the masses on the intricacies of humour, the delightfulness of playing on stereotypes.

Actually, I only really contribute and critique; the core of the dynamics is run by none other then the prodigy himself, A.

A sample of a skit from this evening involving two characters, one German exchange student and A., this scenario made up by A.:
This scene begins at a kitchen table, the exchange student and A. are eating french fries, a bottle of ketchup is placed on the exchange student�s side.
A. - Yo, pass the catsup.
Student � Was?
A. - The catsup... (madly gesticulating at the bottle and pointing at his french fries) CATSUP!... Bitte?
Student - (looks puzzled, looks around the entire kitchen, trying best to be helpful, spots the cat) Katze?
A. - (a look of relief.) Yes... Bitte.
Student - (picks up the cat, looks helpfully wide eyed the entire time, hands A. the cat.)
A. - (flabbergasted, takes the cat) No... Nein... The catsup.... (eyes darting at the bottle)
Student - (finally understands, picks up the ketchup bottle, looks at A.) Das?
A. - (by this time excited that the Student has finally figured things out, nods frantically, still holding the cat) Ja! Yes! Danke!
Student - (look of relief, and mild confusion, opens ketchup bottle, pours the ketchup on the cat.)
A. - (in a state of shock, drops the cat, which scampers off unhappily, stopping to lick the ketchup off its head.)
Student � Bitte. (satisfied, sits back down and continues to eat fries)

Wheeeeeeeeeeeee!

That is only a pathetically fractional slice of the hilarity that is A. That child is a marvel. He is only eleven, turning twelve this May.

N.

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