“Seems Like It,” I Sighed
he had a great mustache, come on!- down in the pelvic region
- none of the government’s business
- just lucky they hadn’t markered a mustache on her
- poodles, frosting, something that looks like
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“Seems like it,” I sighed. “They all know that I’m aboard, so my absence would be a scandal.”
“The babies?” Jim asked.
“The mamas,” Tessa said sulkily.
“Why are you so possessive all the sudden?” I asked her. “I’ve never complained about any of your boyfriends, not even Siegfried.”
“There was nothing wrong with Siegfried! He could dance and he had a great mustache, come on!”
From what I had heard, the problem was that there was altogether too much right with Siegfried down in the pelvic region. The mustache was also pretty epic. There were rumors that he took hormone supplements to enhance it, but all he’d ever say when asked was that it was none of the government’s business which parts of the ibex he chose to extract and concentrate and add to his coffee. Tessa perhaps thought I didn’t know about the time she and Siegfried passed out together and the lacrosse team found them. She was just lucky they hadn’t markered a mustache on her boob. But it was all water under the bridge, which was my whole point.
A man scurried past us, hunched over a clipboard, muttering. “Where am I going to find seven poodles, frosting, something that looks like ‘odd-numbered flavors,’ and a robot so lifelike that even it can’t be sure.”
bonus points for using them in order