(door creeps open slowly)
F: Hello! What’s up?
M: (whispers) Farrah, do you have any food?
F: A can of soup!
M: That’s too big. I’d feel bad. I don’t want to take it all away from you.
F: Half a can of soup?
M: Anything smaller?
F: I have granola in my car!
M: I don’t want to distract you any more than I already have though. :[
F: It’s cool, I needed to go print things anyway. Do you want some granola?
M: (nods sadly)
F: Okay.
M: Thanks. :[ Do you want me to get it for you?
F: It’s fine! I can get it.
M: I’m sorry for distracting you. But I’m so hungry. And so weak. :[
F: There there. …Wait, before I go, can we arm wrestle? :]
M: Well, not that weak.
F: Hey!
M: No, Farrah, it wouldn’t be fair. I weigh like 60 pounds more than you, and not all of it’s fat. There’s organs and bones and then there’s muscle.
F: Lots of muscle. :[
M: Maybe if I weighed 124 pounds, but then I wouldn’t agree because you might win and I’d have to slash your tires or something.
F: What!?
M: It’s a pride thing! But don’t worry, it’s never going to come to that!
F: I’m lacing your granola with arsenic! :'(
