DUMPLING: What did your sponsor want?
GIBLET: He was talking to me about the 10th Step.
DUMPLING: "Continued to take personal inventory and when we were wrong promptly admitted it."
GIBLET: There's no one here to give you an "A" you know. You were like, a total kiss-ass in school, weren't you.
DUMPLING: What? I was just providing exposition, that's all. Jeeze. What did your sponsor have to say to you about your 10th?
GIBLET: Oh, he was all "You need to keep the lens clear so the light can come through... regular writing will do that... daily maintenance equals daily reprieve... " blah blah blah. He's okay and all, but his analogies ... jeeze! And, oh my God, don't get him started about pizza. He has ruined pizza for me with all the pizza analogies.
DUMPLING: Oookay. Nice attitude.
GIBLET: No, no, I get it, it's just ... I didn't get sober to do homework every damn night.
DUMPLING: OOooh, he wants you to do a written 10th Step every evening, that whole "when we retire at night" thing.
GIBLET: Has anyone ever told you that your propensity to quote AA literature is more annoying than it is informative?
DUMPLING: Yes. Every time I do so with a dry drunk.
GIBLET: D'oh! Good one!
DUMPLING: Thank you.
GIBLET: I just don't see why writing it down every night is any better or more ... anything ... than just kind of making amends as I go along in my day and all. I'm a "spot-checker" not an every-night-writer.
DUMPLING: Well I like his analogy about keeping the lens clear. Think of it like the windshield wipers on your car.
GIBLET: Oh my god, is this about my brakes again? You will NOT let that go.
DUMPLING: No, no, no. But like, picture yourself driving in the rain. I know! Let's do a visualization!
GIBLET: <sigh> Okay. But in the visualization my brakes work fine.
DUMPLING: Fine. Fine. Your brakes are fine, and you're driving in the rain.
GIBLET: Am I in a hurry?
DUMPLING: Shut up. Go with it. Close your eyes.
GIBLET: While I'm driving?
DUMPLING: I'm leaving.
GIBLET: No no no ... I'm closing my eyes. See? Eyes closed.
DUMPLING: Okay. So, you're driving and it starts raining, and you turn on your windshield wipers.
GIBLET: shwish-thunk. shwish-thunk. shwish-thunk. That's my windshield wiper sound effect.
DUMPLING: Yeah. I got that. And you know what? Every shwish-thump of the wipers...
GIBLET: Thunk. It's shwish-thunk, not shwish-thump.
GIBLET: You said shwish-thump and it's shwish-thunk.
DUMPLING: I am going to shwish-thump you in a minute.
DUMPLING: Look, what happens if your wiper only goes shwish-THUNK once?
GIBLET: I can't see, because the rain fills the windshield again.
DUMPLING: That's right. So think of writing your 10th Step every evening like your windshield wipers -- once, or rarely, doesn't keep the windshield, or, like your sponsor says, the lens, clear. It has to be regularly wiped ... or you can't see.
DUMPLING: You see, your alcoholism is like the rain...
GIBLET: Yes, yes, yes, I got it, I got it! God! You don't have to spell it out for me.
DUMPLING: Oh. Okay, then. Good.
GIBLET: You're feeling pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren't you.
DUMPLING: A bit, yes.
GIBLET: <mutters> insufferable.
DUMPLING: I heard that! You can put that, and that crack about me being a kiss-ass in school, which you didn't exactly clean up in the moment, Mr. "I'm a Spot Checker!" on your inventory tonight!
GIBLET: shwish-thunk. shwish-thunk. shwish-thunk. What's that? I'm back in my visualization, I can't hear you over the pouring rain! Shwish-thunk! Shwish-thunk!
DUMPLING: Oh my god! I hate you! I am leaving!
GIBLET: What's that? Sorry, no can hear ... shwish-thunk! Shwish-thunk!