The door to the room flew open, shattering the mood as it slammed against the wall. A lone figure stepped through the doorway, a stray shaft of moonlight falling on its face. Yvette gasped in surprise.

"Wendy!"

"That's right, you little slut," she said, striding purposefully over to where the two stood. Daryl shifted slightly, blocking her view of the table. She sneered and shoved him roughly aside, picking up the single sheet of 100% rag solvent-free 20 lb. vellum, scanning it quickly.

A bead of sweat ran down Daryl's forehead.

"Honey, I can explain, we were just..."

"You were just graphing statistical data behind my back. Yes, I can see that. I'm not stupid."

Glaring at the pair, Wendy reached inside of her jacket. Yvette's eyes widened as she moved closer to Daryl, clutching his arm in fright.

From within the depths of her coat Wendy drew forth a stainless steel rule; a full 24" in length and marked in increments of 1/32". Photo etched for accuracy. She tapped it slowly against her palm.

"I think both of you need to be taught a lesson."

---
100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

[quote]
Ok, damnit, I'm not gay either. [/quote]

How can you say that, you bastard? I suppose that torrid night we spent together after an evening of boozing down at the Randy Sailor nightclub was just a dream?

That's the last time I wear a pair of chaps for you, mister!

---
100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.

Wait on... you, and him, and another pair of chaps? Four of you? A big all-bloke all-in foursome?

I hope you got some video footage...

---
This signature has performed an illegal operation and has been shut down.

Well, where's the next installment of Sexual Statistics? I didn't pay a dollar a chapter for only 2 posts.

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I ate a hooker half a bottle of knife.

That's right. You didn't pay a dollar a chapter.

---
100 pounds of shit in a 25 pound sack.