“You’re not even a little bit smarter than me.” “Am, too.” “Are not.” Sounding smug, she shoots back, “Yes, I am, and I have proof.” I mutter, “I can hardly wait to hear this.” “Your Honor, I present to the court the following irrefutable evidence: the defendant’s vagina.” I scoff. “How lovely. Do you have visual aids to accompany this exhibit?” She breezes right past that. “Which the defendant has been pummeling nonstop with personal pleasure devices set to their high settings since she met one Kage … whatever his last name is. Tell me I’m wrong.” I say crossly, “What’s your obsession with my
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Their friendship cracks me up
