“Look at that bird!”

“Ooh, it’s so pretty!”

“What kind is it?”

“I dunno.”

“You DON ’T KNOW ?”

“Um, yeah. I don’t know.”

“Weren’t you like a HUGE bird-watcher back in the mid-90s?”

“I was six. And I was just following my uncle around the woods while HE bird-watched.”

“But surely you could identify at least a few different species!”

“Not really. And don’t call me Shirley.”

“That’s awful.”

“Are you kidding? That’s classic!”

“Well do you at least have a book somewhere that can help me identify it?”

“I doubt it. And what do you care about what type of bird that is?”

“I don’t know, I was just curious! Do you have something against my curiosity?!”

“Maybe I do!”

“Well then you are not welcome here! You are an oppresser, and we don’t need oppressers here!”

“Oppresser? I don’t think that’s even a word! And this is MY porch! If you don’t want me, then LEAVE !”

“FINE! See if I don’t!”

“FINE!”

“FINE!”

”...Shoot. I’m already bored. COME BACK DARN YOU !”

“NEVER!”