We know she’s a reporter because she’s holding a little notepad and pen (judging by the way she’s holding it, that could also be a chopstick ). And Les is ready for his interview: he leans suavely against the counter, the suede patch on the elbow of his professorial jacket absorbing the grease of a thousand pizzas, his eyebrows at perfect 45-degree angles…then Sweet Polly Purebred’s second question stops him dead in his tracks. I can’t figure out what Les means by “How old are you?” Is it only young journalists who ask insipid, pointless questions? Do only people who’ve lived a certain number of years comprehend cancer? Is he…hitting on her?
In the background, Apple Annie pretends to have a cell phone conversation using what is really an eyeglass case…must keep up appearances!
Son of Stuck Funky 