I paused, realizing what was scrawled on her forehead had finally changed. I sighed. The “Miss Me?” had been replaced with a new statement. “Fuck the Cheese Dicks.” “It’s cheese sticks, Samantha. Sticks. Not cheese dicks.” “I don’t think so, Carl. Cheese sticks doesn’t even make sense. Sticks come from trees. Why would there be a tree made out of cheese? I know one goddess whose clitoris got turned into the head of a bald man named Otis-Ray who spends his day begging to be fed cabbage, so it makes much more sense that a penis would be turned to a food item.”
