PANTS: It’s not going to happen. You have allowed your butt to re-bigulate.
ME: Nonsense. You are just being unwieldy because the dryer got the better of you.
PANTS: The only one of us to change sizes was you, cookie-eater.
ME: Your lack of cooperation is nothing a little hopping and yanking can’t overcome.
PANTS: I’m pleased to see you getting some exercise, tubby.
ME: What are you talking about? I am a size 2!
PANTS: I think you are confused. I am a size 2. It says so on my label. You on the other hand are not a size 2.
ME: What is your problem? Why won’t you zip?
PANTS: Listen, if you must backbend over the staircase railing, the zipping simply wasn’t meant to be.
ME: Why I oughtta . . .
PANTS: Are you threatening me?
ME: Maybe I am.
PANTS: You have an unfair advantage; you are much larger than I.
ME: aaaargh …. hoooo-hoo-hoo …nnnnnnngggg … and BUTTONED!
PANTS: You feel like a big woman now? It’s only appropriate.
ME: SIZE TWO, BABY!
PANTS: You are not going to like this.
ME: Whaaa . . . ? [passes out]
