In Which We Discover Whether I Can Still Write Dialogue

Inspiring photo here. Fortunately, I was able to get the voices of "Pinky and the Brain" out of my head long enough to do this.

"What do you think it means?"
"I don't know. Probably some kind of experiment."
"I hate experiments."
"As do we all. But the experiments provide nobility and purpose to lives that might otherwise be misspent, lives that would know no meaning, lives that would be thrown away in---"
"Shut up."
"Sorry."
"You did take your medication today? I don't want you to start preaching through the halls again today."
"Of course I did. Don't you trust me any more?"
"You remember what happened three weeks ago. Seeing such a powerful voice coming out of such a small body---there was panic all over the building."
"I can't help the way I am. Sometimes I hear the voice and I just get carried along."
"You and your voice. Why doesn't your internal radio ever play any good music, or maybe some gardening tips?"
"Please don't start. You know how hurtful that is to me when you start talking like that."
"How do you think I feel, having to explain to people the way you get. The neighbors haven't spoken to me since that disaster last Christmas; all the women give me these half-sympathetic looks as they cluck about you and ask me when I'm going to leave. What does that do to me? What kind of mockery of love makes me do all this?"
"Love is a gift from---"
"I don't want to hear what the voice thinks, I want to hear what you think. What is love, except physical closeness? Isn't that what the sign is telling us? Look at these rats that `are in love.' What can they possibly share with us but being together? Can they fight? Can they argue? Can they get frustrated with each other, then get frustrated with themselves for getting frustrated? Can they devote their lives to making sure the other is taking care of themselves and getting through life? Are they stupid enough to care about someone else so much that they can't bear to stay and watch him sink and strive to keep him afloat, but yet they can't bear to let that person destroy himself? Or are they just in it for the snuggling? Is that love?"
"I think it's cute that the white one is trying to eat the gray one's shoulder."
"Shut up."

Votes (about whether or not I can still write dialogue, or for that matter, whether I ever could) in comments.