"Damn it," Marco agreed sadly, "Turns out I was the real racist. Thank you for teaching me that, white lady. Actually, I was going to suggest using your shirt somehow. Easier to wear a stretched out shirt than stretched out pants. Granted, it would be very sad for everybody who likes your rack, but I think we'd live."

As with all his advice, he dropped it afterwards. Whether she took it was her business.

"Man, you hate being home that much?" Then again, he'd been in that place, so it wasn't like he could judge, "Yup, works for me. You'd better do my story justice if my death is funny, or I'll haunt your ass. You'll never get laid again."