I was enjoying an Indian takeaway with Wetsoks last night. I hadn't had spicy food in some time so this was long overdue and much appreciated. Unfortunately it also led to the following conversation.
Me: This is so GOOD.
Wetsoks: Isn't it?
Me: Mmm. Wait, what do you have?
Wetsoks: Chicken something. Er (looking at the top of her carton) - Diazepam Chicken!
For those readers who are not from the UK, Diazepam is a drug used for purposes of sedation.
Me: (mouth hanging open in horror) I'm pretty sure that's not what it's called.
Wetsoks: It is!
Me: It's bloody not.
Wetsoks: (ignoring me) Anyway, remember you owe me for the pots I bought to replace the ones we'd cooked to a crisp?
Me: I do remember. I feel like we should be given an award or something, because making metal look like that is something that took real effort, time and culinary idiocy.
Wetsoks: Totally.
Me: So, how do you want the money? I could give you the princely sum of £15 now, or I could give you a £1 a day for the next 15 days.
Wetsoks: The second option.
Me: I was kidding.
Wetsoks: I will not accept more than £1 per day from you.
Me: Goddammit!
Wetsoks: Please present me with your first pound.
Me: What if I don't have a pound?
Wetsoks: Then there will be consequences.
Me: Consequences like Diazepam Chicken ?
Wetsoks:.... Perhaps.
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