-¡Mmmmmm! ¡Mmmmmm! ¡Mmmmmm!
Kris Powell furiously poured lamb down his sister’s gullet.
Lindy Powell looked like a watch, complete with dial and stem. It made her look like she always knew what time it was, but, if the truth were told, Lindy looked like a bomb had gone off in her mascara, coloring her entire face a shade of red that made Kris shake his head.
-Thanks for the lamb -Lindy said, poorly feigning enthusiasm. And then, with one rapid movement, the lamb came back up, trying to reanimate itself.
-¡Oh, man! -Kris protested when the mascara exploded, not to mention the regurgitated lamb part.
Lindy knew she was so right:
-Take a chill pill.
Furiously, Kris grabbed the book that was Lindy’s neck and started choking the title page out of her.
-¡Die, you fucking question mark! ¡You wouldn’t know a schwa if it smacked you! -He exclaimed. He knew that his sister detested every page in her own book.
Lindy never ate anything except books. She’d down One Hundred Years of Solitude before Kris could even decide what part of what animal carcass he was going to gnaw on.
-It’s fucked that bombs are always going off in your life -Kris said rabidly.- But it’s no coincidence that your mascara always wins “Honorable Mention”.
-I could make better bombs if you’d help -Lindy said, despicably.
-The Land of the Cheddar Monster Vivisectionists