We were having enigmatic spy banter. Sunday is enigmatic spy rendezvous night around my neighborhood.
I wouldn't repeat the sentence, of course.
Instead I reached across boundaries of time and grammar and plunged my hand straight into the sentence and pulled out what I could find. You know, reached my hand into the dialog to yank something out. Which I can totally do.
I pulled out a big clustered handful. Prudence scowled at me.
"You're just bitter that you lost this week," I replied with a smirk.
She's an intentional vessel. Prudence prides herself on propogating the memes she picks up and carries. That's her secret spy mission: to be the best memetic vector possible. My secret spy mission is to stop her.
"No," she quipped back as she pulled out a pistol, "You're just bitter that you don't eat fortune cookies."