“Every man loves two women”, Isha flared, “one is the creation of his imagination and the other is not yet born.”
“You’re not a figment of my imagination”, Rosh pacified her, “And you were born a long time ago.”
“You can’t win mate,” Rosh concluded happily, “In love, you are stuffed. Get stuffed happily! That’s what’s best for you.”
Finished discharging his fatherly duty, he eyed the stuffed chicken Isha had cooked for him contentedly. Hosh looked at his father’s potbelly, but didn’t say anything.
The caretaker was a bit surprised at the strange request and said, "I'm sorry, I've never heard of anyone in heaven wanting to get married.”
“I'm afraid you'll have to talk to the Lord God Almighty about that. I can get you an appointment next week."
Rosh laughed, covered it up with a cough, but did not turn towards her. He feigned a yawn, but she was having none of it today.
“A yawning man demonstrates his impoliteness,” she giggled from behind him.
“And a yawning woman – her capabilities,” he fired back.
“How are you feeling, Richard?” Hosh asked.
"I've never felt better, Doc” Richard beamed back, “I have a 20-year-old bride now. And she is pregnant with my child. What do you think about that?"
"Animals also have some special dietary needs," Josh agreed, "You can't feed your goldfish chicken bones."
"The bone is probably bigger than the fish anyway!" Rosh joked, "And you can't get your dog to eat grass clippings".
“But it only cost $24,” Isha was explaining, “much better value than your beer would have been.”
“Beer would have made you look better at night than your cold cream,” Rosh was furious.