“You believe this woman?”

Who’s speaking?

“Me.”

Ah, fuck. I told you that you couldn’t be a recurring character, Holly Bowling’s Hat.

“And I told you to stick my brim up your ass. Why am I not on the marquee!?”

Why should you be?

“Because I’m part of the act, man!”

You’re not.

“SHE TREATS ME LIKE OATES!”

No one is treating anyone like Oates, Holly Bowling’s Hat. Cool your jets.

“She’s nothing without me. Nothing! She’d fade back into the crowd! There’s plenty of piano-playing hot chicks interpreting jam band classics out there.”

There aren’t. She’s kinda her own niche.

“WE ARE. We’re a team.”

You’re a hat. She’s got, like, a dozen of you.

“I’m gonna eat her brain.”

Don’t talk like that, Holly Bowling’s Hat.

“I can do it.”

I know you can, buddy.

“And I will.”

Sure, sure. What’s really going on, man?

“She let the dog chew on me the other day.”

Aw, honeybear. You need a hug?

“Yeah, okay.”

C’mere.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU JUST POP INTO EXISTENCE?”

Oh, hi, Holly. I’m TotD. I write this bullshit and I’m here to hug your hat.

“POLICE!”

They’re not coming. Just let me hug your hat. Don’t make this weird.

“I’M MAKING THIS WEIRD?”