The Fleetch and I were talking about a friend of a friend recently, who happens to be one of the most beautiful women I've ever had the fortune to meet in real life. It helps that she is exceedingly nice, intelligent and funny, but mostly it's about her perfect face. My god, her perfect face. The conversation was as follows:
Fleetch: She is so PERFECT.
Me: Isn't she?
There was a dreamy, happy silence as we both contemplated this idea.
Fleetch: I feel like nothing next to her. In a kind of "you are a goddess made flesh, and I am a mere mortal unworthy to look upon you."
Me: Agreed. She's quite close to being the actual perfect woman.
Fleetch: Totally. Except... I don't know. I'd want the perfect woman to be a bit more...violent.
Fleetch: Well no. I mean, I want her to be able to kill dinner for me.
Me: I guess I see the appeal. As long as she was also super girly. Sort of like Buffy, except actually like Faith.
Fleetch: Right? Just something a little more aggressive, animalistic. That would be my perfect woman.
Me: Body of a woman, mind of...of....a CHEETAH!
Fleetch: A fucking what?
I am now giggling too hard to be able to converse like a normal, sane person.
Fleetch: (in amazement) Did you really just say 'mind of a cheetah'?
Me: (wheezing) It just came to me!
Fleetch: Dude. That's genius.
We spent the next few minutes in complete hysterics, imagining a cheetah-woman hybrid roaming at will around the flat, stealing from the fridge, growling from her perch on the top of the door and generally mangling our soft, unprotected human flesh (the Fleetch has this theory that humans are nature's marshmallows, and I must say it's a convincing argument).
Fleetch: No, seriously. I see what you mean. Huh. Mind of a cheetah. Who'd have thought?
Me: It's actually an obvious choice, when you think about it. After all, the Thundercats had Cheetara.
Fleetch: Excellent point.