"There's that nice Mr. Charles Darwin coming up the path, Blanche".
    "Oh, Maggie, doesn't he look handsome...well...for a human".
    "He looks damned silly without a tail, if you ask me."
    "They can't help it, poor things. They're born that way."
    "There he goes toward the stream. He's in such a hurry today".
    "I do hope he's careful on those rocks, Maggie. They're ever so slippery."
    "That's Walter in the middle of the stream."
    "Walter? Have you been naming rocks again? Odd, I call that!"
    "No, Walter the alligator. There he is, right where Mr. Darwin is about to step."
    "Oh dear, Maggie. What a mess!"
    "Well, Walter does like to play with his food before he eats it."
    "Bad upbringing, I say."
    "True, Blanche. That reminds me of that old theory of yours!"
    "Which theory, Maggie. I've had quite a few over the years."
    "You know. The theory about us evolving from the likes of Mr. Darwin over there."
    "Oh, yes. Well I did borrow some of that from the late Mr. Darwin."
    "You know, Blanche, there's a lesson for you in this. If he had spent more time watching where he was going instead of theorizing about every little thing none of this would have happened."
    "True, but then Walter would have been done out of his lunch."
    "Speaking of lunch, I'm famished."
    "I guess Mr. Darwin won't be needing his supplies any longer. Let's go eat."
 
 

    A note from Tactless:
    Well, okay, Darwin died of old age in bed. But where's the fun in that?
    "Excuse me, we're trying to eat here! Do you mind?"
    "What a rude man, Maggie. Talking about death at the dinner table! Go on, off with you!"