Fictionlet
“Take a cab?” Greg said, in apparent astonishment. “Don’t be ridiculous; I’ll drive the two of you to this binge. And in fact, I’ll come back in a few hours to pick you up again. I’m not useful for much, I know, but I can at least drive a car.”
“Really?” said Brigid. “You sure?”
“Of course I’m sure,” said Greg. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Brigid shifted a little. “I dunno; I guess I just wasn’t expecting it, considering how much you dislike my mother.”
“I don’t dislike your mother!” Greg protested, wounded to the quick. “I don’t dislike her at all! I just find her exhausting. She’s perfectly fine in small doses.”
“Exhausting?” said Brigid. “That’s a new one on me. How do you figure that one?”
“Well,” said Greg, apparently reluctant to just come out and say it. “She’s tiring. You know. She’s like the drum-beating rabbit in the television commercial, who just keeps on going and going. I can’t keep up with the never ending stream of people or things she doesn’t approve of.”
-The Gneech
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