“So Bob, are you excited about that new Godzilla reboot everyone’s talking about? I saw the trailer on You Tube and it’s absolutely phenomenal.”

“Gee, Sheila, I didn’t realize you enjoyed kaiju films. Frankly, they don’t do anything for me. I prefer my horror to be as realistic and as undiluted in sheer depravity as possible.”

“Horror? These movies are science-fiction, Bob. That’s what makes ’em fun. Everybody knows that hideous monsters don’t really exist.”

“I thought so, too, Sheila, but then I saw something ghastly on TV the other night — something so lurid and frightening that I was chilled to the very core of my soul.”

“My God, you’re trembling, Bob! What was it? What harrowing creature from the foul, black mists of a nightmare could have instilled such terror in the depths of your being?”

“Got a photo of it on my phone. Here. See for yourself.”

“Oh my GAWD! I don’t know why I have lunch with you, Bob. And you had to show me this on a day the cafeteria is serving flapjacks, didn’t you? Thanks a lot. Now I won’t sleep for a whole friggin’ week.”

“My mother always told me there were no monsters, Sheila. No real monsters. But there are, aren’t there. Why do they tell little kids that?”

“Because most of the time it’s true.”

“Move along, Weaver. This table is taken and we don’t need your two cents today. I can barely keep my food down as it is.”

“I tell you, Bob, I can’t stand that new girl in accounting. Such a know-it-all. Thank heaven I don’t run into her very often. She mostly comes at lunch. Mostly.”