Luna to Michael:
“Papa, I want a mohawk.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It isn’t lady like.”
“Well, neither am I.”
“And it’d be dangerous.”
“What do you mean?”
“Luna if you had spiky hair, you’d be running around
stabbing people with it and you know it.”
“So.”
“Popping children’s balloons.”
“That’d be funny.”
“And slashing car tires.”
“Ooh, I never thought of that.”
“The answer is no.”
“Oh, come on! All I wanted to do was to store fruit up
there.”
“Luna.”
“Like fruit kabobs.”
“The answer is no.”
“God dammit, you’re no fun.”
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