“Trey.”
“Huh?”
“Trey!”
“Page, what?”
“Why am I not in the picture? Did you replace me with Mr. Bobby?”
“Page, just play the song.”
“I DON’T KNOW THIS SONG! It it not a Phish song! Phishes play Phish songs and Grateful Deads play Grateful Dead songs!”
…
“Buddy, if you just make it through the set, then I’ll buy you ribs after the show.”
“Is he coming?”
“No, Bobby’s a vegan this week.”
“I thought he was American.”
“Y’gotta concentrate for me, Pagey.”
“I like ribs.”
“Course ya do, champ. Now calm down and play your dozen pianos.”
“I like playing my pianos.”
“Yeah.”
Just to be Scrupulously Fair, it should be noted that in the semi-fictional universe inhabited by the Phishes and their … not Enthusiasts, exactly; maybe Aphishionados? — Page’s weakness is sandwiches, not ribs.
Sure, but they’re in Nashville.
I wondered about that. Blundered on in and stepped all over the joke, I did.
Hot chicken!