Christopher

(Suddenly and intensely):

She cried…when the doctor finally handed you over to your mother…she cried a lot. We talking Niagara Falls down her cheeks. Lake Superior in her palms. Busted fire hydrant in her eyes.

In fact, everyone in the room was crying. And not because it was a beautiful serene moment. No, it was because you were so UGly that they had an exorcist on speed dial just in case. Rumor has it that Satan could be heard whispering “what da hell?”.

Peter

(Unamused, in a very bro fashion):

At least, I don’t walk around with a big watermelon head on my shoulders. Does walking through the farmers market terrifies you? It should, because that’s a commodity up there (pointing at Christopher’s head).

Christopher.

(Giggling):

Ok Mr Pimple! CeraVe called, they would like to use you in their acne campaign.

Peter

(Little annoyed):

I don’t even have acne. It’s a mosquito bite you bow-legged boob.

Christopher

(Eyebrows raised)

Ok ok, calm down. I guess we took it a little too far with the foreplay.

Peter:

(Smiling lovingly)

It’s ok, it gets me going.

Now get over here you watermelon-headed giant.

Christopher’s mother

(Shocked, mouth wide open, frowning in disgust):

NOT RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY SALAD?!

The END