Pillow Talk

Previously, I shared a little teaser from our epic vacation. Now, I'm ready to confess the entire tale. Here's how it all began:

Donna: Are you awake?

Mike: Si.

Donna: Would you like to go on a trip?

Mike: Si.

Donna: You would?

Mike: Si.

Donna: When?

Mike: Soon.

Donna: Soon?

Mike: Si.

Donna: Where would you like to go?

Mike: Silt.

Donna: Silt?

Mike: Si.

Donna: Silt, Colorado?

Mike: Si.

Donna: What's to do?

Mike: See.

Donna: See?

Mike: Si.

Donna: See what?

Mike: Slim.

Donna: Slim?

Mike: Si.

Donna: Silt Slim?

Mike: Si.

Donna: You don't know any Slim.

Mike: Sad.

Donna: That would be--

Mike: Silly?

Donna: Si.

Donna: NOW CUT THAT OUT!

Mike: Si.

Donna: What do you imagine this Slim does?

Mike: Silage.

Donna: Silage?

Mike: Si.

Donna: I'm afraid to ask this next one. You're talking silage, the fermented, high-moisture fodder that can be fed to cud-chewing animals like--

Mike: Sheep.

Donna: Sheep?

Mike: Si.

Donna: Steer?

Mike: Sure.

Donna: So--

Mike: Si.

Donna: Silage?

Mike: Si.

Donna: Silt?

Mike: Si.

Donna: Where in Silt?

Mike: Silo.

Donna: A silo!

Mike: Si. See.

Donna: Chances?

Mike: Slim.

Donna: Sleep.

Mike: Sleep?

Donna: Zs...

With apologies to Jack Benny, Wikipedia, and, of course, Slim.