“Oh Bjorn,” asked Winola, “what ever will become of us?” .
“Don’t worry, Doll Face,” Bjorn said. “This town has never seen a Finnish tap dancer like me. I’ll take this city by storm.”
“But, Bjorn…,” Winola said, with a hopeless whimper.
“What is it Sweet Cheeks?”
“People in Vancouver hate Finnish tap dancing.”
“Then I may have to rely on ventriloquism, Cupcake,” said Bjorn. “Come on over and sit on my knee and only move your lips when I speak, Kitten Whiskers.”
“What a wonderful idea,” Winola said. “The world will be our oyster.”
“That’s right, boo-boo-blossom!”
“But Bjorn?”
“Yeah, Sugar Britches?”
“Would you please just call me by my real name?”
“Certainly, Love Chicken, but what the hell is your real name?”
lost ironies 