NIECE: Morning, Argy!
UNCLE: Fair morrow, sister-daughter!
NIECE: What are you talking about? The fair doesn't start until next week.
UNCLE: Aye, but thou art fair today. Wilt thou break fast with me?
NIECE: I can't. I'm going to be late for basketball camp.
UNCLE: But hold! If thou break not thy fast, how shalt thou play fast break?
NIECE: Good point. Toast, please. And... why are you talking like that?
UNCLE: Thou knowest how I love the antique liter-
NIECE: Watch it! I'm a child! Auntie says I'm not supposed to know about these things.
UNCLE: I only meant that, last night as I snacked, with sudden wondrous visions was I wracked; a craving for the classics then attacked... Oh, how mine eyes did ache to read the Didache!
NIECE: Uncle Argent, you're an unclear gent.
UNCLE: Alas that, sister-daughter, thou shouldst honest seem, and yet not honest be!
NIECE: And that means...?
UNCLE: Why honest thou thy razor wit on me?
NIECE: Exactly what is it that you ate last night?
UNCLE: A few shittake mushrooms, that I found whilst looking for a drawer.
NIECE: Draw-er? As in a pencil?
UNCLE: Aye, in thy good brother's secret drawer.
NIECE: No! You didn't really take sh-- from Kevin's...
UNCLE: Shittake, dear. How strange that he should keep sweet mushrooms in his desk. What magic might the lad be working?
NIECE: Uh-oh. Look at the time!
UNCLE: Nay! 'Tis not too late for a latte.
NIECE: No, no. I'm off milk. Basketball diet.
UNCLE: 'Tis just as well; the milk is off. Blood of the grapefruit, then?
NIECE: Ew. Not when you put it that way.
UNCLE: But stay! Thou hast not packed a lunch.
NIECE: Well, OK, but I can't fit much more into my bag.
UNCLE: Would some cucumber sandwiches be too cumbersome?
NIECE: Wait a minute, this bag doesn't feel right. What the...
UNCLE: What is it, sister-daughter? Thy looks have gone beyond the pale.
NIECE: One of my shoes is missing! Where's my other shoe?
UNCLE: Ah! At last!
NIECE: At last what?
UNCLE: The last in the closet. Thou shouldst not leave things lying on the floor. Tripping could ensue.
NIECE: Someone's already tripping.
UNCLE: A hit! A palpable hit!
NIECE: This song? I've been meaning to change my ring-tone, like, all summer.
UNCLE: Answerest thou it not?
NIECE: It'll go to voice mail.
UNCLE: Zounds! That I should see the day when voices serve as mail! O hard, hard word...
NIECE: Eek! That's Tiffany, tooting her horn.
UNCLE: As she always does, the boastful creature. Well, 'tis time for thee to fly!
NIECE: Now that would make a cool ringtone...