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He looks at the page “How’s it working out so far?”

“I’lad this isn’t a pop-up book”

He huffs in aetables into ridiculously neat little sticks

“Omelet okay?”

I nod and glance at his whiteboard Tuesday: OMELET I look at what’s for dinner for the rest of the week I wonder how I can score an invitation back

“Can I do anything?”

He shakes his head and I watch his into a metal bowl

“So, hoork? You clearly missed me”

I put hs a bit to himself

“It was boring” It’s the truth

“No one to antagonize, huh?”

“I tried abusing soot all teary”

“The trick is to find that one person who can give it back as good as they can take it” He takes out a pan and begins to fry the vegetables in a single, stingy drop of oil

“Sonja Rutherford, probably That scary lady in the mailroom that looks like an albino Morticia Addams”

“Don’t line s”