“Hello Dianne,” said Billy Troll, when he answered his telephone.
“Billy!” exclaimed Dianne. “What is wrong with your voice?”
“Nothing,” said Billy. “What makes you think there is something wrong with my voice?”
“Well, you sound a little squeaky,” said Dianne. “Billy, if you are coming down with something, maybe you should cancel the concert.”
“I am not coming down with anything,” said Billy. “I feel just fine and besides, I can’t let my fans down. They are all counting on my being there tonight.”
“Billy, I’m sure that your fans will understand,” said Dianne.
“That’s not the point,” said Billy. “My fans have paid good money to hear me sing tonight and that is exactly what I am going to do!”
“Alright,” said Dianne. “I can’t get anywhere arguing with you, anyway.”
“Hey Dianne,” said Billy. “I’m going to be at the stadium a little later than I expected. I’ll send Johnny over to pick you up in the limo and I’ll see you backstage.”
“Oh Billy,” said Dianne. “Are you sure that you are alright?”
“Stop worrying about me, Dianne,” said Billy. “I’ll see you tonight, okay!”
“Alright,” said Dianne, hanging up the phone.
“I just bet that Billy does have a cold and is trying to cover it up,” said Dianne to herself. “I know just the thing that will cure that cold of his mighty quickly.”
Dianne went into her kitchen and took out a container of her grandmother’s chicken soup. She emptied the container into a pot and set the pot to boil on the stove.
“Grandmother’s soup is just what the doctor would order,” said Dianne.
Once the soup had boiled, Dianne poured it into a container, put a lid on it and walked over to Billy’s house.
“Oh, my!” exclaimed Billy. “My throat is so sore! How am I ever going to get through this concert? Maybe Dianne was right. Maybe I should cancel the concert tonight. If only I had a nice big pot of Dianne’s grandmother’s home-made chicken soup, that would cure my throat up in no time at all?”
Billy heard a knock at his front door.
“I wonder who that could be?” asked Billy. “It’s probably just a reporter trying to get a scoop on me before the big event!”
“Dianne!” exclaimed Billy, when he answered the door. “I told you that I would send Johnny over to pick you up.”
“Oh Billy!” exclaimed Dianne. “Just look at you! I had a feeling that something was not quite right. What’s wrong Billy?”
“I’ve got a cold,” said Billy, not able to look Dianne straight in the eye.
“Well some of grandma’s chicken soup should do the trick,” said Dianne.
“You brought some with you?” asked Billy.
“I sure did,” said Dianne, unwrapping her parcel. “Here Billy, it’s still nice and hot. Sit down right now and eat it up.”
“Thank you,” said Billy, after he had finished eating the soup. “I feel much better already.”
“Good,” said Dianne. “Now, you’ve got about three hours to concert time. I suggest you go take a nap. I’ll wake you up at six, so you’ll have lots of time to get ready.”
“I can’t take a nap right now,” said Billy. “I’ve got to get to the stadium to do my sound check.”
“Look,” said Dianne. “If you don’t get upstairs right now, you won’t be in any shape to perform tonight or for the rest of this week! I’ll call the guys and they could do your sound checks for you. Now, get going!”
Reluctantly, Billy went upstairs and took his nap. Surprisingly, he fell asleep instantly. Dianne woke him up at six o’clock, like she had promised him.
“How do you feel now?” asked Dianne when Billy came downstairs.
“You know something,” said Billy. “I feel like a brand new person. My throat isn’t sore any longer. I feel great!”
“Alright!” exclaimed Dianne, happily. “Come on Mr. Troll, we’ve got a concert to do tonight.”
“Thanks Dianne,” said Billy. “Your grandmother’s soup and your good sound advice has made me feel like my old self.”
“Never mind the thanks,” said Dianne. “Let’s get this show on the road!”
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