“So, are you going to come home with me or what baby?”
“I already told you no,” she said rolling her eyes. “What
didn’t you get?”
“Aw don’t be like that baby, you’re so beautiful, don’t
let me sleep in a cold bed tonight,” he said with a hint of a drunken slur.
“Maybe you should light yourself on fire, asshole. That’d
keep you plenty warm tonight.”
“I want you to light my fire baby. Just like Jim
Morrison. They call me Mr. Mojo Risin, I bet you’d love to know why.”
“Gross. I’d rather be shot in the face.”
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