Reynolds

“He said ‘Reynolds’. And then he died.”

“Reynolds? Was that, like, his 'Rosebud’?”

“No one knows. If I had to guess, I think it might have been the name of that guy he buried under the floor.”

“Edgar Allan Poe didn’t bury anyone under the floor, you idiot. That was a character in ‘The Telltale Heart’.”

“Get out.”

“Are you telling me you never read ‘The Telltale Heart’? I thought everyone read that in grade school.”

“Yeah, I think I read it. Wasn’t that the story of the guy who shot an apple off his son’s head?”

“Arrrgh. That was William Tell.”

“What did William tell?”

“You’re joking with me, right?”

“Me? Of course not. Not now, and ..... wait for it .... nevermore.”

“Okay, that’s it. You’ve gone raven mad.”

“Once upon a midnight dreary, I thought I had indeed gone mad. But while I pondered, weak and weary, I realized that it was probably the pepperoni pizza I ate just before bedtime.”

“Okay, smart guy. Let’s take it back to square one. No one’s ever been able to figure out what Poe meant by ‘Reynolds’?”

“They say 'Reynolds’ was a name that he made up in a game,
but I think it was the same as the guy who bears the blame
for the lady who they claim brought him nothing more than shame.”

“I’m afraid to ask, but exactly what was that?”

“My ‘Reynolds’ rap.”

“Arrrrrgggggghhh. How do you live with yourself?”

“I don’t. I live with my wife.”

“I give up. This isn’t a conversation. It’s a load of blather.”

“Probably true. But may I just say one last thing?”

“Okay, But just one.”

“Rosebud.”