Excerpt From notes about war, the musical

"Rob, the book is too short."
"Uh, did we put in 40 blank pages?"
"Yes."
"Uh, did we make every word in the title take up a page?"
"Ya."
"Did we put Dominoes at the end?"
"Ya."
"Pictures of stairs?"
"Yup."
"Hey, I got it! Let's repeat the same lines we already used in a conversation, but the other speaker can spit out porno titles!"
"Brilliant!"
"Now, look at this!"
"What is it?"
"I call it, the Pet Rock!"
"Brilliant!"
That's a hypothetical, but very possible conversation the author of this book had when he got to the songs I just got to. I'm trying to use humor to ease the pulsing vien in my head that's bulging in sheer rage. It's kind of working. Oh no, here's another song!
More repetition.
More repetition.
More repetition.
More repetition.
Kind of annoying, no?
More repetition, only instead of intersecting porno titles into the other half of the conversation, they use piglatin! Brilliant!