Last night I got a little present. An ace of spades, a golden ticket, a free pass, if you will. A really good one. One that can only be used once, so it better be good.
And to get what I want, or to get out of what I don't want, all I will have to say is this:
"Andrew, remember the time that you forced me to help you work on your bug, (even though it was freezing outside and I am a girl and I had expressed concern over the absence of safety glasses), and you sprayed half a gallon of premium gasoline directly in my face? Remember that? The burning, the eye-washes, the 9:00-on-a-Friday-night calls to poison control and my optometrist, the ice packs, the inability to use a blow-dryer for who knows how long for fear of my head bursting into flames, and, oh yeah, the insane burning? Remember that?
You owe me."
And that, my friends, is all I will have to say.
One of these would have been exceptionally helpful.
