Ruby: *immediately tenses* Where are you going?

Angelo: The Wheel.

Ruby: Can I come with you?

Angelo: *indifferent* Whatever you like.

Ruby: *desperately* But do you mind?!

Angelo: *not really paying much attention* Doesn't matter.

Ruby: *gets in his face, growls* Answer the f—ing question.

Angelo: *staring in complete astonishment* God, Rube, what's gotten into you?

Ruby: *heatedly* I'm just sick of being treated like furniture!

Angelo: *utterly lost, but at once determined to bring the perpetrator to justice* Who's been treating you like furniture?

Ruby: You do!

Angelo: *...no words to describe his confusion...* Oh?

Ruby: *spluttering, coming close to hitting him* Like a... like a damned lightswitch.

Angelo: Rube—

Ruby: *rolls right over him* On, off. Up-down. Doin' my job. No *swings at him* feelings!

Angelo: *catches her hand and holds her* Ruby.

Ruby: *falling hard* Yes?

Angelo: Sit down. I'm making you coffee.

Ruby: *forcefully* No, let's go get a drink.

Angelo: But—

Ruby: I need a stiff drink.

Angelo: *finally sure of something* The last thing you need is a stiff drink.

Ruby: *knows he's right, but she has the upper hand anyway* Please?

Angelo: *in no position to argue* ...Fine, but this wasn't my idea.

Ruby: I'll put that on the record.

Angelo: *under his breath* Good Lord.

Ruby: *sharply* What was that?

Angelo: *wisely* Nothing.

[Suggested illustration: a very angry Ruby taking a swing at Angelo, Angelo recoiling with a look of pure astonishment.]

Mike: Now?

Angelo: We're done for the day.

Mike: *after a pause* Oh.

Angelo: Now what do we do?

Mike: Don't know about you, but I'm going to get drunk.

Angelo: Sounds good to me. Meet you at the Spiked Wheel in an hour.

Mike: Where are you going now?

Angelo: Out.

Angelo: *soft groan* Not now, Mike...

Mike: Ange, there's more to the afterlife than brooding.

Angelo: *humorous* There is?

Mike: *firmly* Stop that. Come on, let's grab us some drinks.

Angelo: Later. I have something to do.

Mike: Such as mope around in dark corners?

Angelo: ...Shut up.

Mike: I know you too well.

Angelo: Look, just meet me at the Wheel. I'll come later.

Mike: Promise?

Angelo: Promise.

Mike: *reluctantly* Okay. –Ange?

Angelo: Yeah?

Mike: Don't think too deep.

Angelo: *bowing* Your wish is my attempt.

Mike: Good boy. See ya later, Ange.

Angelo: *echo* See ya.

[Suggested illustration: Angelo slowing in mid-stride, looking slightly over his shoulder, Mike with his hand on Angelo's shoulder, looking concerned.]