“Ah, lad, look at Lara Croft’s boobs,” Gibsie chuckled around a mouthful of popcorn, as he pointed at the screen of my portable television. “Make her jump again, Claire-Bear.” “Gerard! Don’t say boobs.” “Can you zoom in?” he asked, hooking an arm around her to tap on the controller. “Make it go closer.” “What—hey, no! Stop looking at Lara’s boobs.” “Why?” “Because it’s not nice.” “Hugh looks at her boobs.” “I don’t care what Hugh looks at—”
