FINE!
"FINE!" you yell. "But I swear, if Barbra dies while
we're all here talking our lips off, I'm blaming you!"
"Sheesh! Take a chill pill {insert your name}!" says Dave.
You grit your teeth to prevent tounge lashing him and say,
"O...kay... So, do you have a plan of some
sort?"
You're a little ticked off by the whole situation, but decide that it
is best to just go with it.
