"Oh, Diane," I said, looking at her orange face, "she told me why she was a bad person, and I'm besides myself."
Diane was intrigued. She showed it by raising her carefully-caterpillared brows. Both of them, at the same time.
"Why, Tony?" She finally whispered.
I leaned in.
"She thinks the Bauhaus version of 'Ziggy Stardust' is better than the original."
"Oh," she replied. "Oh my god."
"And that's not all," I said, my eyes wide with horror. "She loves Bob Evans, Diane. Bob Evans!"
"Wait, don't they have that unlimited pasta bowl?"
"No, Diane," I sighed, frustrated. "They're the ones with the turkey and dressing year-round."
"Oh," she replied. "Oh my god."
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