You’re starting to look like you did before, and that’s not good because what you looked like was complete shit, so get up and go to bed so I can stop acting like your mother. I can already feel my balls starting to recede. And hey, does it look like I’m growing breasts? - Kye

I can be a gentleman off and on. When the urge hits me. - Tran

Just shut up and talk. - Shella

Why would Dad call you? I mean, you have to admit that he would have been better off calling the local prison and asking them to send out one of the convicted killers to come find me. - Shella

Don’t be hating on my peacock. It’s just not right. - Kye

I’m sure all of that’s true. Especially the anal bit--Marshall’s always been an ass--but I don’t see how this is relevant, unless of course I’m mistaken, and you really are comparing me to a crumb that needs sweeping. - Shella

So what did you do, drug me, stuff me in the trunk, then dump me like a sacrificial offering into that vampire’s coffin? - Shella

Been lickin’ peanut-butter spoons? Maybe I should call you butterfingers. It has a better ring than Hella Shella. - Tran'Answer my question, Tran. Right now. Or I show you just what these fingers'--I wiggled my fingers under his nose-- 'can really do.' I took a step closer, erasing the distance between us. 'And let me tell you, emo boy, you are not going to like it. Let’s just say, that peanut butter I ate, freshly made.' I licked my lips with care. 'I’m actually quite skilled when it comes to crushing nuts.' - Shella

God, why do I bother trying to help you? It’s not like you appreciate it. It’s not like the word ‘thanks’ is in your vocabulary. It’s like you’re not capable of being nice to someone you decided to despise when you were six-years-old. Sure, about twelve years have passed, but what’s time compared to your rock-headed mind? - Tran