Imaginary Friends Reunited
I like to keep my finger on the pulse of modern media and give you the heads-up on the next big thing. Social networking websites are all the rage so it’s only a matter of time before someone invents one for those make-believe mates we knew in childhood. But be warned; if an old pretend playmate gets in touch with you, don’t be seduced into the idea of a reunion in some quiet café.
BILLY: So this is weird isn’t it? How many years has it been? Thirty-five?
BOBO: (Stubbing his cigarette into a fried egg) Thirty-six years come your next birthday. Remember that party?
BILLY . That’s right, my tenth birthday party! Mummy said that was the cut-off point. She said the other children would laugh at me if I invited you to the party. She said I could never talk to you again.
BOBO: I had to stand there watching you all stuff your faces with cake.
BILLY. Fluffy purple bears don’t eat cake. You eat purple grapes.
BOBO. Yeah, I forgot. Not that it matters given that I’ve eaten precisely nothing for thirty five years. I mean did you even give me a second’s thought in all that time?
BILLY: Of course I did. I really missed you…at first.
BOBO: And now?
BILLY: Well, you know…I’ve moved on…I’ve grown up.
BOBO: Hah!
BILLY: What does that mean.
BOBO: Nothing. Nothing at all. But tell me…do you have any real friends these days?
BILLY: Yes, dozens and dozens. You ought to see my Facebook account.
BOBO: But anyone you’ve actually met?
BILLY: Let me think….hmmm….nope.
BOBO: So Billy, where do we go from here?
BILLY: How about the fruit shop? I could get some grapes and feed you.
BOBO: You’re crazy.
BILLY: No, Bobo. Just lonely.
BOBO: Not any more Billy-boy. I’m back!
