The Tarzan and Jane Dialogues

Jane: Don’t be such a stuffed shirt, Tarzan. You haven’t seen Ward Cleaver since the war.

Tarzan: Not like Ward. Him know-it-all.

Jane: Ssssh. Here they come now. Hello June. Hello Ward. Hello boys. My the boys are getting bigger everyday.

Wally: A miracle of modern biology.

June: Now Wally that’s no way to speak at the table.

Ward: I always say, the manners learned at the dinner table will dictate the kind of man…

Wally: Shut up, Ward.

Tarzan: This wildebeast tough, June. How long dead?

Jane: Tarzan! I’m surprised at you. It’s not wildebeest. It’s fried lion.

June: Oh, that’s OK, Jane. I may have mixed up the zip-lock packages from the freezer. It does have that wildebeest texture…Hmmm, but the package clearly said cat…

Beaver: Someday I hope to be the curator of paleontology here at the community college.

Ward: Good boy, Beaver. That’s the stuff! I always say, dinner etiquette formulates later behavior patters. Why, even if a young man eats nothing but humus he can still open a can of tuna or grill a biscuit.

Wally: Kiss off, Ward.

June: Wally…

Tarzan: Wally OK, June. I used to have same problem with Cheetah until I borrow cattle prod from Ubangis.

Ward: Beaver! Get a shirt on! What’s the matter with you!

Beaver: Tarzan’s not wearing a shirt.

June: But, dear that’s part of his costume.

Wally: Yeah, Beave, like Donald Duck not wearing pants.

Ward: So, Tarzan, are you on line yet?

Tarzan: On lion?

June: Oh, Ward, don’t be silly. We’ve seen all of your films, Trazan. I particularly liked the one where the locals were chasing Jane and you called out the elephants. All that testosterone! Do apes really ride ostriches?

Wally: What a geek. Ask her about her two-piece loincloth. Pretty risqué for the Forties, wouldn’t you say?

Beaver: Thanks for dinner, mom. Can I go over to Whitey’s and read dirty magazines?

June: Yes, dear, just so long as you’ve finished your homework.

Ward: Excuse yourself, son.

Wally: He’s trying to, dad.

June: Now Wally…remember your manners.

Ward: Yes, Wally, table manners have everything to do with…

Wally: Shove it, Ward.

Ward: Well, Tarzan, let’s retire to my study and smoke cigars.

Tarzan: Not politically correct to smoke. Not politically correct to depict women as servants and domestic support entities…

Ward: Say what? This is the Fifties. It’s OK. It’s even expected.

Wally: Great humus, mom. I’m going over to Lumpy’s and shoot heroin.

June: Be home early, Wally. It’s a school night.

THE END