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"What, you're telling me that giant apple in your pants is stronger than Kevlar?" I challenge.
I'm halfway through my open-faced sandwich when I realize Raul is staring at me and look up to find him watching me with this dreamy look on his face, like I'm a kitten in a top hat or some shit.
"I'm not cute," I snap. "Do you have some weird Shallow Hal thing going on where you see me as some tiny 'uwu' beansprout with glittery Hello Kitty eyes and not a swole bro who could bench your whole family?"