Weetabix : You know, with Mo moving here, she’s going to be coming over for dinner quite a bit, which means… vegetables.
Esteban : You can make vegetables now. There’s nothing stopping you.
Weetabix : I can and do, but it’s not a lot of fun to make them if it’s just going to be for myself, you know, the girl who would degenerate to All Toast All The Time if living solo.
Esteban : I eat vegetables.
Weetabix : Other than potatoes.
Esteban : Tomatoes.
Weetabix : Tomatoes? You don’t eat tomatoes.
Esteban : In salsa and, you know, spaghetti sauce. They are clearly not meant to be eaten in their natural form.
Weetabix : Clearly.
Esteban : I also eat mushrooms… and, uh… pickles and…
Weetabix : Wait a second, if you’re forming a vegetable argument with PICKLES, I think you just lost.
Esteban : It’s a vegetable! That I eat.
Weetabix : I’m going to remember your pickle theory and write about it when I wake up in the morning. Must remember. Must tattoo it onto my brain!
Esteban : Except that you won’t. You say you will, but you won’t.
Weetabix : You’re probably right.
