A Bit of Bunk

I was boogieing around the living room a moment ago, trying to decide on the layout for this week's page of Fey, flourishing my notebook about, when a folded piece of lined paper fell out and fluttered to the ground. I picked it up to stuff it back into the notebook, but of course I had to read it to see where in the notebook it should be stuffed. On one side are some notes for "Great Skerry" (a Cobbleshore/Vinland/Friesland story I've written but not yet revised), and on the other side I found this converstation between the two main characters of my novel-that-only-exists-in-my-brain (and a few notes), Bunk (Wakelyne and Fawkes are magicians and debunkers of seances in Victorian London):

Fawkes: We need something to make us different. Exciting.

Wakelyne: Oh? What do you suggest?

Fawkes: We could do a show with wild animals. Tigers, maybe.

Wakelyne: Are you insane? No one is going to pay to be menaced by giant cats. And what would we feed them?

Fawkes: Well, what if we did a show with jokes? People like to laugh.

Wakelyne: Jokes?

Fawkes: A part of the act.

Wakelyne: I'm not good at telling jokes.

Fawkes: That's fine. I'll talk, you could just make faces. You're good at that.

Wakelyne: Hrumph. I still think the mechanical pig is the better idea.

Well, it made me laugh. And the best part is, I have no memory of writing it. I love when that happens. (Oh, and ten points if you can spot the references to two other magician teams.)