When Time Ran Crooked

86 hours, 35 minutes, and 49 seconds Until

        "Honestly, this much snow should be illegal," I muttered, setting my windshield wipers to an even faster speed. "Snow is a fucking murderer of the first degree. It's like it wants us to die."

        "And how would they try it in a court of law?" Claude questioned. "It would melt under the prosecutions glare."

        "I'd laugh but I hate you," I told him. "And, you know, there's also the little fact that you're not funny."

        "That isn't a joke. Prosecutors are mean," he informed me.

        I rolled my eyes. Even just the sound of his voice was enough to send my gaze rolling. "Did you find that out when you were being tried for owning child pornography?"

        His eyes widened. "What?! That never happened a-"

        "You're so fucking dense," I snickered, unable to help myself. "It's a joke. Get it? Or do you not get jokes? Because what I did was put words together and make them funny?"

        "It's not funny to joke about child pornography and pedophiles," he murmured.

        "It is when we're talking about you," I said. "I mean, you're basically a child yourself."

        Claude scowled. "I'm twenty-six years old. How does that remind you of a child?"

        "You're twenty-six?"

        "Why is that so surprising?"

        "Because you are a child."

        "Why do you keep saying that?"

        "I'm a therapist," I retorted, dryly. "I know a child when I see one."

        "I thought you were a grief counsellor."

        "Same thing," I muttered.

        "Um, not really," he responded.

        "Okay, fine, maybe they're different," I said. "Jeez. Can you feed me my Slice?"

        "Why would I do that?"

        "Because we are in the middle of a fucking snow storm," I reasoned. "I can't take my hands off of the wheel or else something bad will happen and we'll die and then aliens will descend on the planet and kill everyone else just because you didn't feed me my Slice."

        "Isn't that a tad dramatic?" He questioned.

        I considered this for a moment. "You're right. Probably the working class will revolt against the fucking bourgeois."

        Claude's eyes widened. "Are you a communist?"

        I rolled my eyes, again. Claude just had that affect on me. "You're more surprised by a radical political movement than aliens. Wow."

        "Well, have you ever read a history book?" Claude reasoned. "As far as the general public knows, communism has caused more issues than aliens have."

        "Touche."

        "So . . . you're not a communist?"

        I grinned. It was hard to be mad at this guy when he was just so . . . innocent. "I'll let you figure that one out."

        "Good," he said. "Because I'll have you know, I'm carrying my Communist Repeller with me."

        I almost swerved off the road. "What the actual fuck? They sell that? Of course they do . . . it's the United States of America, after all, the mo-"