“Those arms, wheweee. And that hair,” Suze says. “And he can wear a shirt, am I right?” “Everyone’s wearing shirts,” I say, waving my hand around the room. “Not like him,” Chandra adds, unhelpfully. Then she must see my irrepressible grimace, because she adds, “But in a very creepy, ugly, evil way. He’s hot until he opens his mouth, I’m sure.”
