"Pariah!" she screamed, tugging at his hair with one hand and scritch scritch scritching at her rump with the other.
"Ja?" he queried, thumping his leg ecstatically in a fast, syncopated rhythm. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."
Me, I just sat there, hands on my hips, desperate for a Tylenol. It doesn't make me a bad person.