Another wet little slap—Bex is hit too. “Cunt!” says the girl. “Goddammit, John,” says Didier, “if you can’t sit at the table without throwing food, you’re not going to sit at the table.” Susan stares at her husband. “Why does she know that word?” “How should I know?” Bex sings, “Cunty McGee was a happy little cunt.” “Goodness,” says Edward.
