"Would you like a sandwich, Freddie?" asked Carly.
"Why, sure, thanks," replied Freddie. "What's in this? Spam?"
"I'm afraid so. We're all out of turkey and bologna."
"No problem." He continued eating in silence for a few moments, then wrinkled his nose. "This tastes kind of…fluffy."
"Oh, no! I was just doing the laundry, and I must have still had dryer lint on my hands when I made the sandwich!" Carly was distraught.
"Hey, no big deal. Just give me something to get the taste out of my mouth, would you?"
She relaxed. "Sure. How about a lemon? They're good and sour."
"Sounds like a plan." He sucked the lemon thoughtfully; Carly took another from the fridge and followed suit herself.
"Say, Carly, you know what I really hate?"
"What's that?"
"People who write meaningless little stories and then give them misleading summaries to try and attract readers. Particularly when they use sex as an enticement, and there's nothing remotely sexual in the story itself. Isn't that the most childish thing you can imagine?"
"I couldn't agree more. But what do you think, dear reader?"
END