is that book stuff or is that real?

We met Willy from Minne-hopeless last night.  His wife passed out from the day of open-bar drinking from the Wedding at the Intercontinental.  He has three daughters.  Madison, Stella, and ...forgot.  Bethany, Jerrod, and I were passing a notebook around us, writing phrases (funny or die).  We were about to leave to go to the Chinese Bar of modern folklore, with 2 dollar taps.  Willy said, "if I bought you all a drink, would you stay?"  Of course.  He made fun of Guinness.  "Why are you drinking that swamp water?"


Later, he would say, "what are you guys doing over there, passing that notebook around?"
Someone explained, we were writers.  Someone explained, I am writing a novel.
Willy said, "will you put me in your book?" I was looking for a name for the band conductor.  Of course I'd put him in the book.  Always welcoming more concrete to this damned whimsy story I've been sluggishly writing for four years.  The band conductor, now named Willy, has a German Shepherd named Rommel.


After bar time, Willy asked cute mini skirts and a Lake Geneva boy for their take out leftovers.
Jerrod went to have a row in the river.  Willy said, is he okay?  "Oh," Bethany said, "yeah.  He's fine."
"He's a ninja.  He'll be k."
"Is that book stuff or is that real?" Willy said.
"No, he isn't truly a ninja.  But I'm sure he could pass as one."
...
As he left on his way back to his hotel room, he asked, "Will you make Rommel and I make out or spoon or something?"  He asked this after he said, "you lied about bar time, girl."


Fuck yeah, I am making Willy and Rommel spoon.