“Do it. Let him out.” I twirled spaghetti on my fork and displayed it, donning my own horrific British accent. “This is hands down the worst spaghetti I’ve ever had in my life. You should be ashamed. You call this food? This is rubbish. I wouldn’t feed this to a dog, let alone my boyfriend. I can’t believe you’re half-Italian. You’re a disgrace.”
