“Stanley, we went to the doctor today and—”

“You went to the House of Horrors!”

“Don’t be silly. We went to the doctor and Bernie signed a MOLST form.”

“Nothing good ever happens in the House of Horrors. MOST what?”

“MOLST, Stanley, not MOST, MOLST. Medical Order for Life-Sustaining Treatment. It says that if an event happens, like another stroke or a heart attack, Bernie doesn’t wish to be resuscitated. Right, Bernie?”

“Right,” says the Man.

“What happens if you break a finger?” asks Stan.

“It depends on what finger,” says the Man. “Did we write on MOLST that if I break my index finger I don’t want to be resuscitated but if it’s my thumb I need to think about it?”

“You two are being silly. The MOLST Form is about what to do if something serious happens.”

“You mean, if I get pregnant?” wonders Bernie.

“What about if he loses his eyebrows?” demands Stanley. “Now, that’s serious. You know how he feels about his eyebrows!”

“I don’t want to live if I lose my Bodhidharma eyebrows,” says the Man. “Arms, legs, brain, no problem, but if anything happens to my eyebrows I want to go.”

“You two are driving me up the wall.”

“You’re sitting right here,” says Stanley.

“The MOLST Form is used in case an event happens. A stroke is an event. A heart attack is an event. Losing eyebrows is not an event.”

“It certainly is,” says the Man. “In that case, no resuscitation, no feeding tubes or breathing machines, no special life-sustaining treatment.”

“What about roast chicken?” inquires Stanley.

“What about it?”

“Roast chicken sustains life like nothing else I know. So in case of an event, just give me your plate, okay?”

“That’s a terrible thing to say, Stanley. Are you saying that if something happens to Bernie all you’ll think about is eating his food?”

“I will be taking life-sustaining treatment out of his grasp so he is not tempted to prolong his suffering unnecessarily.”

“What about if something happens to you, Stanley?”

“I want all the life-sustaining treatment you could think of, but only if it’s edible.”

“You could probably do that in any event,” says the Man. “For example, in the event it gets dark tonight, Stanley wants his life-sustaining treatment.”

“And in the event a new day dawns tomorrow, I want it again,” says Stan. “I want it for every event.”

“This is no laughing matter,” I tell them.

“Everything is a laughing matter, “they tell me back.