“Is there nothing you can do for me? I’m stuck in this hole,” he said. “There’s nothing I can do for you. You’re stuck in that hole,” I said. “But can’t you find a shovel or something and dig me out?” he said. “I don’t think there’s a shovel around here, but I could look,” I said. I went and looked for a shovel, but all I found was a spoon. “Here’s a spoon,” I said. “But that will take forever,” he said. “I don’t want a spoon. That will take forever,” he said. “Then I’m afraid you must stay buried,” I said. “This is not something I want to hear,” he said. “Who buried you like this, anyway?” I said. “I did not catch his name. He was a tall man, quick with his hands,” he said. “Well, that is no help,” I said. “I was half-asleep at the time. I wasn’t paying attention,” he said. “And you ended up buried in that hole?” I said. “Yes, when I awoke I was buried in this hole,” he said. “Let me remove just one spoon of dirt and see if that feels better,” I said. “One spoon couldn’t possibly make me feel better,” he said. “Okay, then I’m going,” I said. “Oh, please don’t go. I need you,” he said. “I can’t do anything for you so I might as well leave,” I said. “You could put a spoon of dirt on my head. If I’m going to be buried I might as well be buried all the way,” he said. “No, you need a breathing hole,” I said. “I don’t want a breathing hole if I’m going to be buried like this,” he said. “Someone will come along and dig you out eventually,” I said. “I can’t go on like this,” he said. “You’re doing fine,” I said. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m next to death here,” he said. “I’ve never seen a finer head than yours,” I said. “Please put me out of my misery,” he said. “I suppose I could start digging with my hands,” I said. “We could be here forever,” he said. “Such is cast our roles in life,” I said. “Such is cast our roles in life,” he said.