Long ago, I worked in the vault room of a large retail store. A secure, windowless room, the vault's daily sameness was driving me nuts. In a feeble bid for some entertainment, I began collecting defaced one-dollar bills.
Artist: "George Washington, George Washington, how come you don't have any ears? If I could draw like that, I'd remember to put ears on."
George: "At the time of my portrait, it was the style to keep one's ears modestly covered. People did not wish to see a man's ears sticking out on formal occasions."
Artist: "You're not really talking to me, it's just my imagination. Mom says I've got too much of it."
George: "Always listen to your mother."
Artist: "What's wrong with ears?"
George: "There is nothing wrong with ears, child. We simply preferred them hidden."
Artist: "How could you hear?"
George: "Covered, not plugged. We could hear perfectly well. Stop that! What do you think you're doing?"
Artist: "Making you ears. Huh. That does look pretty dumb."
George: "Of course it does! It is also illegal to write on currency."
Artist: "No, it isn't. The cashier at the hardware makes a pen-mark on every twenty-dollar bill she gets. Here, you need better eyebrows, too."
George: "Desist, I tell you!"
Artist: "You sure are grouchy. You need a big, happy smile."
George: "This is an outrage!"
Artist: "And eyeliner!"
George: "No, not eyeliner!"
Artist: "Oh, yes, eyeliner, and a little bit of lipstick -- Oh, Mom! I wasn't doing anything. Well, he needed some ears. I'm sorry, I won't do it again. Just when he started talking, I -- but he did! That's not fair!
Artist: "See what you got me into? I got sent to my room."
George: "My pleasure to serve my country once again."
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