(About a 1 minute read)
TERESUMS: My room is awesome now. Totally clean.
PAUL: Why is your mom awesome?
TERESUMS: I said my room, you dongle-cherry.
PAUL: Your mom is your room now? You’re a strange one, Teresums.
TERESSUMS: No. No. No, my mum is a separate entity from my room.
PAUL: Well of course she is! Have you ever known any sane person to think their room was their mother. I’ve known people who thought their aunt or someone was their mother, but their room? If you ask me, that’s something only you would think, Teresums.
PAUL: Eh? Are you thinking I’m your mother now? I worry about you, Teresums. I really worry about you.
TERESUMS: By Vishnu! I’m so confused now I only know I want to kill you.
PAUL: Now you sound like my two ex-wives. This is your way of suggesting we get married, isn’t it? Hah! I knew it! I can see right through you, Teresums. In your defense, I am indeed irresistible to the female sex. I’m quite accustomed to women becoming positively feral around me, you know.
TERESUMS: I swear to you, Paul, you delusional dorkle-squat, when the blissful day comes at last to break the bitter drought of happiness that descended upon my heart when we met, I’m going to make you die as slow as Trump’s brain.
PAUL: I see. I finally see it. I don’t know why it took me so long to catch onto your true feelings, Terese. So, June of next year? Who’s going to be your bridesmaid? I can’t wait to find out.