“And what exactly do you put in those pockets?” Dolores asked. “Certainly not the head of Kyle Browning.” “I could put anything I want in them. Maybe I’ll put cheese in them.” “Why on earth would you put cheese in your pockets?” “It’s just a hypothetcal, mom.” “I think that’s a brilliant idea,” her mother scoffed. “Run through the forest with stinky cheese-laden pockets . Maybe throw some melted chocolate into your tunic while you’re at it, make them nice and gooey.” “Maybe I will.”
