"I had a date last night..." said Kellen.
"Good for you!" grinned Marc.
"Don’t be a cunt..." dismissed Kellen.
"I’m not!" insisted Marc. "I’m being supportive! This is my supportive face. I’m like a solid supportive sports bra."
"You’re more like recycled tit tape..." grumbled Kellen.
"How did the date go?" asked Marc.
"It was a disaster, obviously..." shrugged Kellen.
"What do you mean, obviously?" asked Marc. "You’re a catch!"
"Thanks, Sports Bra..." said Kellen. "But obviously, I’m not. I just don’t know what you’re supposed to say on a date."
"You just chat..." replied Marc.
"Chat?" repeated Kellen.
"Yeah, chat..." shrugged Marc. "Chat about stuff."
"I went on a big rant about Kevin Spacey..." said Kellen.
"Oh..." acknowledged Marc.
"That’s not sexy, is it?" asked Kellen. "I might have also got onto Felicity Huffman."
"You’re kidding, right?" asked Marc.
"No..." admitted Kellen. "I had a lot to say about Felicity Huffman."
"You’re an idiot..." sighed Marc.
"I told you, I’m rubbish at this..." shrugged Kellen.
"Has he messaged you since?" asked Marc.
"No..." replied Kellen.
"Oh well, not to worry..." smiled Marc. "Plenty more fish in the sea or whatever they say. What is this opera?"
"Death in Venice..." replied Kellen.
"What’s it about?" asked Marc.
"You haven’t read the book?" asked Kellen.
"Nope..." replied Marc.
"Thomas Mann..." explained Kellen. "It’s a classic. All about a paedophile who gets obsessed with a young Polish boy in Venice."
"Right, sounds like a barrel of laughs..." nodded Marc. "Not problematic at all."
"The past is a different country..." shrugged Kellen. "They do things differently there."
"That’s a different book..." corrected Marc.

"Thanks, Recycled Tit-Tape..." sighed Kellen. "Couldn't you just try and be on my side for once?"

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