"It must be, if you're willing to assassinate me for a chocolate jones."
She draped the moist washcloth over her forehead and leaned back against the sofa arm. The week's heat had yet to break, and this was the best solution she had at the moment to combat it. "You surely don't realize the extent to which I am willing to go to get my fix."
"I could go to the store and buy you some cake, you know. You don't really have to perform surgery on me. Actually, I'd prefer that you didn't. I like my kidneys where they are, purring away."
"Kidneys don't purr," she said. "They percolate."
"Whatever. In any case, you can't have them."
"If you had chocolate kidneys, it would all be over. I'd tear into you like a wild dingo."
"I'm locking you out of my room tonight. I don't want to wake up and find you hovering over me with a nutcracker and salad tongs."
"Sleep with one eye open," she said, "and do your best to not sound like a German chocolate cake when you snore."
"What's a German chocolate cake sound like?"
"Oh, you'll know," she said, and winked. "Listen really carefully when I start gnawing on you, and that's what it sounds like."
"Let me just get my keys and run out to the store."
She pulled the washcloth down over her eyes and leaned her head back. "A very wise course of action there."