He and She were enjoying a late-evening snack …
She: “I didn’t expect you to serve me.”
He: “Happy to do it, love. And I’ll even be gentle. A nice little lob. Just don’t get it into your head that I’m running a racket.”
She: “And where did you get your hands on such a thing? I didn’t hear you making one.”
He: “Of course you wouldn’t. You’re supposed to keep this sort of thing quiet, so people don’t know what’s going on. Especially the neighbors. But I’m not making a racket, so I can’t run with one. Like I said.”
She: “Good thing. Because I wouldn’t be letting you run with a racket in the house. Somebody might get hurt.”
He: “Or something?”
She: “What something?”
He: “The racket, of course. You do know what they call it when the racket mesh gets ripped up, don’t you?”
She: “Um, no …”
He: “[tsk, tsk] Racket tearing.”
She: “Is that why evangelical Christians voted for our President?!?”
He: ” … whut?”
She: “You heard me. You tear rackets, you make them holey! So racket tearing is sacred, and those who do it are worthy of sacred trusts!”
He: “Yep. I reckon the billionaires would be thrilled to learn that their trusts are sacred, all right. Too bad for your theory that our President prefers to play golf.”
She: “You planning to take me to court over this?”
He: “Been there, doing that with the courting thing. Why else do you think I’m serving you?”
She: “So you are running a racket …?!?”
You are compiling proofs for having us committed love … although I am already committed to you.