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You already said that, Sabine said, folding the wrapper back from her burger. You said it a lot, actually. Which supports my theory that apologies are basically pointless. They don't fix anything, right? That's why I rarely bother.

Rachel Vincent

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Rachel Vincent
Theory
Folding
Already
Burgers
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Actually
Pointless
Anything
Apology
Sabine
Back
Rarely
Wrapper
Right
Bother
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Apologies

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It's suspiciously quiet in here, and there's a Tod shaped dent in the bean bag. For the sake of both my sanity and my temper, I'm going to pretend I can't tell that you're in his lap, so could you pretend that this is still my house and you are still my daughter, and I'm within my parental rights to kick your boyfriend out after 11:00 p.m.?
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But all I said, as I dug a five from my pocket to pay for my soda, was, You have a friend? Tod scowled. Well, I wouldn't call him a friend according to the traditional definition, but in the sense that he imposes on me constantly and isn't afraid to point out my flaws, I'd say he qualifies. Sounds more like a cousin.
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I'd just stepped out of the kiddie pool and into the deep end, with no floaties. And drowning was not an option.
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Should I assume the lure is a certain attractive young dead man?
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Had I just begged for an audience with Death?
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There's pressure, but that's true no matter who you are or what you do.
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I've seen this episode. This is the one where Sylvester eats Tweety.
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