The Punk and the Snark (Pt. 5)
"Bob, you know your way to a girl's heart." Daria said as she looked at him from across their candlelit table.
Bob smirked and then took another bite of his pizza.
"It pays to have connections," Bob said with a shrug, "Or so I'm told."
"I get that a lot," Daria admitted as she glanced at the book she was reading, "Then I tune my mother out in favor of more rational thought."
Bob chuckled and stretched his arms above his head, "I keep hearing about your infamous Mom, mostly from Quinn's boy toys who met her. Is she really that bad?"
Daria's eyes shined in the candlelight, "No."
Bob sagged with relief.
"She's worse."
Bob winced.
"Don't worry about it though," Daria added with a hint of glee, "Since you've done well enough that I won't subject you to her." A pause. "Willingly."
Bob gave a big belly laugh, which was impressive due to his perfectly flat stomach, "Well then we'll have to have more bookstore pizza dates afterhours then, huh?"
"Sounds good to me." Daria replied before glancing down at a borrowed copy of The Bride of Lammermoor.
Bob reminded himself to thank his uncle for letting him set this whole thing up.
After all, he did own the bookstore.