Why do you hate your nose so much?
“That’s your opening line?”
This never goes well for me. Sometimes it seems like it will, but that’s only to set up a joke.
“Are you a lunatic?”
“Are you the narrator of a loosely-continuitied semi-fictional universe that I’ve been roped into without my consent?”
“You should buy my stuff.”
What are those things?
“And they’ve got Stealies.”
I’ll give you that.
“You can put things on them.”
In a pinch, I guess.
“Table cloth for a family of fancy mice.”
That’s adorable. What’s on the menu?
“The smallest baby from the most recent litter.”
No one ever accused mice of being impractical.
“Mice get shit done. Oh, here’s my boyfriend.”
We’re just getting right to that, huh?
“There’s a pattern to these things.”
Sure. Is he a member of the illustrious Fucks?
“No, he’s Mictlantecuhtli, the Aztec god of death.”
I’M GOING TO YO-YO ON YOUR SOUL.
Oh, fuck this bit.
Look at my evil bow-tie.
No, I won’t.