“Look, Stanley,” began drunken Linda. “This date… or whatever… look. It’s not me. It’s YOU. Don’t get me wrong. Linda likes poop.”
Linda stood in her doorway, making it clear he wasn’t coming in.
“Did I stutter? I didn’t say Linda likes TO poop. I said Linda likes poop and I’m LINDA! Some people like bugs, some people like argyle. Linda’s always liked poop. And that’s why Linda’s an ass doctor. Oh, forgive meeee,” she paused, eyes rolling sarcastically. “I meant ‘proctoooooologist’.”
Stanley tried to interject but Linda continued.
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“Lookit, there’s things Linda likes and things she doesn’t. Linda likes candy. I said that. Linda likes Pandas. Established. Linda likes poop. DUH! But Linda hates THIS, and if you were any kind of a man, you’d KNOW THAT!”
And she slammed the door on Stanley, who sadly looked down at the box of ‘Panda Poop Candy, The Candy Made From Actual Panda Poop’™ that Linda had thrown to the ground.
