Me: (Peering over counter, on tiptoes, to look at the printer)Are you out of paper, you little son-of-a-gun???
Her: (sitting by the phones) You know, they have medication for that now, Jen.
Me: I know. I'm actually ON it.
Her: Well (flipping newspaper page), I don't think it's working today.
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Candles in the dark
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