“Please are you serious? Fred, come on! Get that thing off of my magazine.”
“It’s not poisoned move it yourself if you don’t like it.”
“Your apple, not mine.”
“Your magazine, not mine.”
“Precisely Fred, my magazine why would you place that apple there after biting it and letting the juice get into the magazine?”
“It was there and I needed to put it down. Look the bite mark isn’t even touching the page. You’re not going to get cooties or anything. For god’s sake Sheila you kiss me and there is spit ‘swappage’ what is the problem with this?”
“Because you’re messing up my property without a thought as to how I would like it and well… it’s a bit gross. I wouldn’t do that to your stuff I don’t understand why you’d do it to mine.”
“It’s a stupid magazine it’s not like you’re going to find anything in that magazine that will miraculously take off inches from those thighs or yours. Clothing is just an illusion to hide what you’re not willing to work off.”
“Fred… Are you saying that you haven’t gained weight either?”
“Nope still the same size I was in high school. If you don’t believe me go take a look at my pants over there. I just got them from Old Navy the other day.”
Sheila starts to giggle. “Fred… you have been suckered into vanity sizing. You’re size 36” pants is actually… <> 41 inches. So get that blessed apple off of my fashion magazine and I suggest you do a few sit-ups while you finish it.”
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