Thread: For Sale: Grandpa's Prosthetic Leg

"My good man, you're not really selling that prosthetic leg, are you?"

"Yup."

"You mean someone will actually buy that thing?"

"People buy anything."

"And obviously sell anything."

"Flea market — buy it or sell it and it don't make no difference what."

"I can see that. Where did you get it?"

"Was grandpa's."

"You're selling your grandfather's prosthetic leg?"

"Sure, he ain't needin' it where he is?"

"Where might that be?"

"Up there or down there."

"Yes, I see your point."

"What're you looking for?"

"Straight razors."

"You mean them knife razors?"

"That's one way of putting it."

"What do you do with them?"

"Shave with them."

"Man, you're crazy shaving with them scary things."

"Only poor people are crazy. The artist and the rich are eccentric."

"Ain't got any of them — knife razors. Got a violin."

"Yes, I see. What is that, a Guarneri del Gesu?

"A what?"

"Oh, that was some Italian character who made violins in the mid-seventeen hundreds."

"Sure, it's a Guar . . . whatever."

"Or maybe it's a Guadagnini . . . or, let me see, could be Matteo Goffriller. Maybe a long lost Stradivari."

"Yeah, all them."

"But the strings are missing."

"Well, what the hell, what you need them for?"

"You have a point there."

"Take fifty bucks for it."

"For that long lost Stradivari without strings?"

"Sure, it's a bargain."

"You have a fantastic offer there, my good man, but unfortunately I play the guitar. Well, I've been trying to play the blasted thing for who knows how long — and still can't play."

"Wanna trade since you can't play it worth a hoot?"

"But my guitar has strings."

"So take 'em off. What's the difference?"

"Yes, that's what I keep telling myself."