Me: What do you want to do tonight, babe?
Her: I don't know. Let's go down to the basement and talk about it.
Me: Why do you always want to go to the basement? It's dark, and wet, and gross.
Her: Ugh, you're so not spontaneous.
We hear shattered glass and heavy breathing.Me: Did you hear that?
Her: Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello? Hello?
Me: Nine’s enough.
Her: Quick, turn off the lights!
Me: Turn them
off? Why?
Her: That’s what it said to do in the forbidden videotape I watched to calm down after I was in that hit-and-run.
Me: Why don’t we go to Chili’s and – wait, what?
Her: Hey, there's some kind of tunnel over here that leads underground! And a trail of what appears to be red paint… I love art! Let's see where it leads.
Me: Sweetie, please.
Her: It'll be fun. We can recite dark incantations to pass the time.
"Non bagno te, bagno il tuo cuore! Che sempre più tu mi possa amare…"
Me: How did you possibly know that? You don't know what these words can –
Her: Beetlejuice Beetlejuice Beetlejuice!
Me: Now you're just being ridiculous.
Her: Ooh, look. An ancient torture device from the Middle Ages.
She lies down on it.
Me: I really don't feel comfortable –
Her: "Ooh, look at me, I'm a sex-starved serf from 1455, take me now before I get my eyes scooped out with these big old rusty spikes!"
Me: Stop that.
Her: WHY? EVEN IF THERE WAS A SERIAL KILLER HERE, I BET HE WOULDN'T HAVE THE BALLS TO MURDER US!
Me: Jesus, lower your voice! Or at least don't yell inflammatory statements!
Close by, we hear the sound of knives being sharpened and a maniacal laugh.Her: BRB, I'm gonna hop in the shower.
Recording...
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