AHAHAAHAH SURE YOU WOULD BE, I BET YOU’D BE THE COUCH POTATO WIFE, MAKING THE HUSBAND DO EVERYTHING— I don’t know, maybe, maybe not, what is life. You ain’t my appa, get out of here, you’re the weird one, friend. MAYBE YOU NEED TO GO, BYE, GOOD BYE, DONE WITH YOU.
Truuuu. I’m not even gonna argue with that. I'mma be that wife that farts a lot too and doesn’t even know she’s pregnant. I’ll be givin’ birth in the local Walmart and I won’t even fuckin’ know the whole time. I’m everyone’s appa. DON’T FUCKIN’ TELL ME WHAT TO DO I'MMA FUCK YOUR BITCH ASS UP WATCH YOUR FUCKIN’ MOUTH
I missed you every hour. And you know what the worst part was? It caught me completely by surprise. I’d catch myself just walking around to find you, not for any reason, just out of habit, because I’d seen something that I wanted to tell you about or because I wanted to hear your voice. And then I’d realize that you weren’t there anymore, and every time, every single time, it was like having the wind knocked out of me.
WAIT— SO YOU’RE NOT EVEN GOING TO DENY BEING A WIFE?! WHOA MAN YOU’RE SO FAR GONE, SOMEONE CALL THE PARAMEDICS, WE HAVE AN ASYLUM PATIENT HERE— What are you talking about, Chucky’s so cute because he kills people. It’s all fun and games, right? (/Laughs obnoxiously.) I’M NOT GOING BACK TO RED THOUGH, NO, SCREW THAT. I HAD ENOUGH BEING CALLED A FIRE CROTCH.— Although Orange doesn’t help either….
I AIN’T NO WIFE BUT IF I WERE A WIFE I’D BE A DAMN GOOD ONE, ASSHOLE. That’s fuckin’ weird. You’re fuckin’ weird. I don’t wanna talk to you anymore. You that crazy type that’ll end up killin’ a nigga’s whole family when he sleepin’. Either way you’re going to be called fire crotch, so just be nice to big appa and dye your hair.
[ `she raises an eyebrow, giving him a deadpan look ] Seriously?
Seriously what? [`he blinks, stomping his foot quietly] Trust me, woman.



