D: I think you’re mocking me.
D: You! You’re mocking me.
A: Okay, normally I’d say yes. But I’m not really sure what I’m mocking you about–
D: How about yesterday’s little limerick, A?
A: Oh, that. Ha.
D: And then the ghost-town story, with the guy. And his hat.
A: Uh. . .
A: Yeah, about that. . .
D: You have no defense, do you?
A: Not really.
D: So you admit it?
A: It’s not like it was planned.
D: Limerick, A.
A: Okay, that was planned, and that was awesome.
D: I had nothing to do with Naill and his Nine Hostages.
A: So you think.
D: You are not allowed to outline without me anymore.
D: Limerick writer.
A: So not an insult.
D: (Bloody woman)
A: (Also not an insult)
D: Would you let me have the last word?!
A Invites the Audience’s participation!
Am I the only one who abuses her mental muse by mocking him mercilessly? Granted, he gets his jabs in too, but the limerick might have been a step too far for his ego.