"Those cheap ass streamers are just going to unravel at the first sign of trouble," said Zelda, a bobby pin dangling front the corner of her mouth like a hardened soldier's unlit cigarette.
"Your optimism is outweighed only by your subtly," I replied before reaching the end of my fountain drink. I drew air and diminishing amounts of Fanta up the straw.
"God, I hate that noise."
"Sorry,"I said.
I wasn't sorry.