How Things Went Down:

Milo: Hello
Me: Hi
Milo: How was your run? It appears that you encountered another dog. Smells like a lab mix.
Me: I dunno. Maybe. Whatcha been up to.
Milo: Oh, nothing much. As you can see, I brought your T-shirt into the living room. I figured you might need it later.
Me: Hey, thanks. You know, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that. You know, bringing my clothes out of the bedroom and leaving them all around the house…
Milo: Oh yeah?
Me: Yeah. The thing is, it’s not so much helpful as it is really annoying.
Milo: Well that sweatshirt over there? That was totally Jericho.
Me: I highly doubt that.
Milo: Or maybe it was me; I can’t remember.
Me: Uh-huh.
Milo: Okay, I’ll take that into consideration.
Me: I’d appreciate it. So, what else is new?
Milo: Oh, nothing much, really. It’s hard to have a lot to talk about when you’re locked in a crate for 8 hours a day.
Me: Well, maybe if you’d stop eating everything in sight, I could leave you out more often.
Milo: Well, maybe if you’d play with me more, I wouldn’t get so goddamn bored and be forced to find ways to amuse yourself.
Me: Jericho does just fine out by himself all day. He just sleeps. It’s not a bad idea.
Milo: Jericho is clearly depressed.
Me: If he is, it’s only because you give him such a hard time.
Milo: I do not!
Me: I saw you shove him out of the way when he was eating last night. You just pushed right in front of him and started chowing down on his food.
Milo: He was done eating!
Me: No he wasn’t.
Milo: Okay, whatever. Geeze. Wanna play?
Me: No, I think I’m going to go take a shower, but thanks anyway.
Milo: Uuuh, you sure? C’mon, let’s throw the ball. You don't even have to stand up!
Me: Nah, thanks, I really need to shower. Maybe Jericho will play with you?
Milo: Nah, he’s no fun. All he does is sleep, what with his crippling depression and all. Hey, how ‘bout a game of tug instead?
Me: No, seriously, I’m going to hop in the shower.
Milo: Wait! Don’t go. Uhhh. I think I have to go to the bathroom.
Me: You just went out 30 minutes ago. You’re fine. Go bug Jericho.
Milo: But I’m out of food!
Me: What the hell, Milo! Leave me alone.
Milo: Don’t go back there!
Me: What? Why?!? What’s your problem?
Milo: It’s just that…I think there’s a burglar in the bedroom. You shouldn’t go in there. Let’s go for a walk instead.
Me: There is no burglar in the bedroom. What’s wrong with you?
Milo: Just…don’t go back there. Please?
Me: You’re insane.

[walks to bedroom]

Me: See? There’s no burla…WHAT THE HELL!?!?!
Milo: What?
Me: MY BRA!
Milo: What bra?
Me: THIS BRA!!! THE ONE THAT’S ALL CHEWED UP!!!
Milo: Oh, wow. Weird. I wonder how that happened.
Me: MILO!!!!! WHY DID YOU EAT MY BRA?!?!?!?!??!?!?
Milo: I didn’t. Ask Jericho.
Me: DON’T GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT. WHAT DID YOU DO?!?!?
Milo: I didn’t do anything! Maybe the burglar did it.
Me: THERE IS NO BURGLAR, MILO! YOU ATE MY BRA!!!
Milo: Okay, okay, I ate your bra. Are you happy now?
Me: NO! I AM MOST DEFINITELY NOT HAPPY. WHY DID YOU DO THIS?!?!?
Milo: I dunno. It was there. You know, if you played with me more often, things like this probably wouldn’t happen.
Me: DON’T GIVE ME THAT SHIT. YOU ATE MY BRA!
Milo: I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got in to me. It’ll never happen again.
Me: You said that LAST time!!!!
Milo: I did? Huh. Don’t remember it…
Me: YOU DID, ASSHOLE
Milo: Well, this time, I PROMISE I won’t eat another bra.
Me: I think you should leave.
Milo: Okay, I’ll just grab this sock and get going…
Me: DROP THE SOCK
Milo: Okay, okay, sheesh. Maybe you should lighten up a little. Oh, and by the way, somebody had an accident in the living room. I think it was the cat.
Me: Oh, for the love of…

/scene.