Me: Two or three?
Bobby: Depends on what you're talking about.
Me: Just answer the question.
Bobby: Shit, I don't know. (pause) You already know the answer, you're just not telling me.
Me: If I knew the answer I wouldn't ask you. Two or three?
Bobby: You at least know the thing in question.
Me: (blank stare)
Bobby: Three.
Me: Pervert.
Bobby: Figured as much.
Me: Your mom figured as much.
Bobby: Your mom, whatever, ate the sandbox.
Me: My mother was a saint. Asshole.
Bobby: Yeah, Saint Whores-enough.
Me: Well, at least she doesn't have a gaping vagina like your mother.
Bobby: That was the work of Saint Whores-enough.
Me: No, that was the work of your mom being a promiscuous slut. By the way, tell her I said hi.
Bobby rubs his nose.
Me: Why are you picking your nose, cochino?
Bobby: I have an itch, okay? You ever get a zit inside your nose?
Me: Not since I stopped banging your mom.
Pause.
Pause.
Pause.
Bobby: Hi sexy.
Me: Don't hi sexy me.
Bobby: (as Eeyore) Oh-kay. (normal) Hey sexy. See, I changed it from hi to hey.
Pause.
Bobby: I'm sore, now in a good way. In a way that feels good now that I'm sedentary.
Me: Well, you picked three.
