Esteban: (farts under covers)
Weetabix: (swats him gently) Aahhhhh!!!! Flag the covers! Flag it!!!!
Esteban: (waving corner of the comforter around) You hit me.
Weetabix: You farted directly on me.
Esteban: That’s no excuse to hit me.
Weetabix: Directly. On. My. Leg. Your noxious ass fumes.
Esteban: Seriously. You’re a spousal abuser.
Weetabix: Arrrgh. You smell.
Esteban: You’re a husband beater.
Weetabix: You’re a walking toxic waste facility.
Esteban: I’m amazed that you don’t burst into flames at those Take Back The Night rallies you go to.
Weetabix: If you lit a match in here right now, I think my leg would burst into flames.
Chelsea: (climbing atop his chest) Mrrrow’mrrrowwww’.mrroooowwwww
Weetabix: Don’t do it, Chelsea. Run. Flee.
Esteban: Oh my god, cat, you have foul breath.
Weetabix: That’s karma right there.
Esteban: Aaarrgh. Move back.
Weetabix: See’ bad smell karma. For every bad smell you inflict upon me, you will receive a similiarly or worse smell in return.
Esteban: Yeah. I’m going to hell.
Weetabix: I say that all the time.
Esteban: You say that I’m going to hell.
Weetabix: No. That I’m going to hell.
Esteban: Why would you be going to hell?
Weetabix: Oh, in fact, just the other day, I was writing this conversation with my uterus’
Esteban: I wish I could tape you sometimes. Like, I could use it as evidence if I ever need to have you put away.
Weetabix: It was on my diary.
Esteban: Tell it to the shrink at your new mental health facility. You know, Joel reads your diary in front of me and just sits there saying ‘Oh my God. Oh my God! OH MY GOD!!!’
Weetabix: Why would Joel say that?
Esteban: Oh, you know. He doesn’t realize how you really are.
Weetabix: I think I’m pretty much how I am in the diary.
Esteban: I know you are. But I’m saying, Joel doesn’t usually have that much concentrated exposure.
Weetabix: Does he think I’m evil now?
Esteban: No, I didn’t’
Weetabix: He thinks I’m crazy now, right? And mean?
Esteban: I’m not’
Weetabix: What else did he say?
Esteban: (announcer voice) Here we go. This is the Weetabixapolis 500. The cars are beginning their first lap.
Esteban: It’s like a cycle with you. You get on a track and fuggedaboutit.
Weetabix: My next husband won’t make fun of me.
Esteban: Oh, yeah, Henry what’s his name.
Weetabix: Henry Rollins.
Esteban: He’s gay.
Weetabix: He is not gay!
Esteban: He is so.
Weetabix: He’d so kick your ass for saying that. Why is he gay?
Esteban: Because Melissa Etheridge is gay.
Esteban: It’s the universe’s way of equalizing everything. Melissa Etheridge is gay and Henry Rollins is the yang to Melissa’s ying.
Weetabix: That’s a logical fallacy.
Esteban: Ooooh’ aren’t you high fallutin’ wit your colledge edumacation.
Weetabix: Besides, Henry Rollins so is not Melissa Etheridge’s yang. Ru Paul is.
Esteban: Oh, now you’re just being ridiculous.
Weetabix: Seriously’ what did Joel say about the diary?
Esteban: (announcer voice) We have a yellow flag as they round the 35th lap. We ask that you remain seated in the stands while a crew investigates.
Weetabix: That’s it. I’m going to fart on you.
Weetabix:Fart karma, baby.
This is cool. I’m so flattered. I’m in some great company there.