Uh huh, sure, let me just go ahead and do that. I have shit to do, you asshole.
Well, sugar blossom butt, your sneakers are still shitty. You would look better with boots. You can revoke my hair touching privileges all you want, you are going to end up wanting them anyway, isn’t that fucking right, handsome baby boo?
Yeah– and if I’m not at the top of your to-do list, then I don’t care, sweet-cheeks.
Oh-hoh-hoh, you wanna play the nickname game, huh? Don’t bite off more than you can chew there, monkey chiclets. I can’t wear boots all the time– do you have any idea how long it takes to walk from one end of Helios to the other? Even with the trains and my segway? Gotta have comfort, baby. And contrary to your belief, I do actually do work around here.
Not if you’re threatening to shave it off. That’s like, the worst thing you could do to me. But mostly yourself. Becaause I’d kill you.