"Why do you keep trying to flirt with me? You're not worth me getting arrested." She takes another swig of the gin and unscrews the pickles. This may be the best food they get for a while, she thinks.

"Okay, Rambo." Dee snorts. She doesn't know what a sixteen year-old has to be paranoid about, but the kid turns into animals and talks about aliens, so she's not going to dig. She has nothing to gain by learning about his weird, boring life, so fuck prying. "Maybe you're just addicted to being a paranoid freak."

When he grins, she grins back. It's strange, how people respond when she's being funny in a conversation, and yet the instant she starts to perform it's just crickets and blank stares. She thought she could be a comedian because she makes people laugh; she still refuses to believe that everyone's just laughing at her more often than not.

She sets a pickle on the saucer and sprinkles some peanuts on the top. "There. It's a fucking salad."