Man: Hey, it worked... We’ve got three pigeons trapped in that box thing on the roof.

Woman: Great! I’ll be back in like, twenty minutes, then I’ll talk you through plucking and gutting.

Man: I’m not doing that.

Woman: If you want a meat dinner you are. C'mon, it's the least I can do after you forces me to learn friggin' CSS. You'll need to get some rubber gloves and your least ****** kitchen knife... Oh, and some scissors, for the wings.

Man: If I puke, it’s on you. Like, literally.

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