"What are we doing up here, especially at this time of night?"
"I come up here all the time."
"You climb up here onto the guillotine scaffold in the middle of the night all the time?"
"Yeah, it's really neat. Sometimes they get lazy and leave the last victim up here and don't cart away the parts until the next morning. Look! They did it tonight!"
"I think I'm going to be sick."
"Wow, all this fuss over a little blood."
"It's not the blood that bothers me. I can deal with the blood. No problem there. Well, maybe a little tiny problem there, but it's the messy stump of a neck that's oozing all the blood that I'm really having a hard time handling. I've never seen anything like that before and I find it rather disturbing. All those little jaggedy bits of bone that used to be the spine are especially bad."
"Then why don't you look at the severed head instead?"
"I can't."
"Of course you can. There's nothing physically preventing you from looking at the severed head. It's probably right down there in the basket next to your feet."
"Okay, I could look at the severed head if I felt like it, but I really don't want to."
"Just take a nice long look, wave and say, 'Hello, Mr. Severed Head!' and you'll see that you're making a big deal out of nothing."
"Fine, I- Oh God!"
"That wasn't a nice long look! You'll never get over this little phobia you seem to have if you don't confront it. Pick up that head and tell it that you're not afraid!"
"No!"
"Why not?"
"Because it's even worse than the little jaggedy bits in the stump of a neck that's attached to the body oozing blood."
"I don't see how it could be worse. A disembodied head holds a whole lot less blood than a decapitated body does, even if you scooped out the brain to make extra storage space, and other than that they're pretty similar, so the head must be better than the body because it's smaller. It's smaller size means that there's less visually disturbing stuff to be, uh, disturbing visually."
"It's worse because when I look at it, it looks back at me."
"I bet you're one of those people who can't have fish for dinner if the head is still attached because you think it's staring at you, aren't you? Don't worry. It's dead. It can't really see you."
"Then why is it following me with its eyes?"
"It is?"
"Yes, and smiling and wiggling its eyebrows in a suggestive manner."
"Let me take a look. Hmmm... I see what you mean. That is rather unusual. Let's try a little experiment, shall we? Look! It smiles when I bring it close to you and it gets sad when I step back with it."
"Will you get that thing away from me?!?"
"Oh come on! Don't be such a baby! What could it possibly do to you?"
"It could bite me if you bring it too close."
"I think it likes you! Look, it's puckering up like it wants a kiss!"
"I'm not letting that thing kiss me!"
"I'll have you know that this head used to belong to a very influential Marquis!"
"That's all the more reason for me to not want to touch it. You think I want to get chummy with some dead aristo pig's severed head that doesn't seem to know it's supposed to be dead?"
"Fine, I'll kiss it. He is kind of cute."
"And you're more than kind of disgusting."
"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it. Look, right on the lips. Pucker up big boy! MMmmmmmmm..."
"Now I know I'm going to be sick. Since you seem to be getting your goodnight kiss right here and now, I think I'll just go home. Don't bother to drop by tomorrow, because you can forget about a second date. Goodbye!"
"...mmmmmmmmmMMMM! Wait! Come back! Okay, be that way. See if I care. Some people just can't take a joke, can they, Mr. Severed Head? ... What's that you say, Mr. Severed Head? ... Why yes, I do like chocolate chips in my butterscotch pudding! Why do you ask? ... What? ... Do I ever put what in my where? ... I'm sorry, but you'll have to speak up, Mr. Severed Head, because I- OUCH! IT BIT ME!!!!!"