TCG: (driving the car one lovely afternoon) Hey, look over there! (gesturing wildly about 12:15 high)
UCC: (obligingly facing that direction and straining for some clue about what is being drawn to one’s attention. Clueless, but trying not to look impatient for falling, yet again, for that trick.)
TCG: What the hell was that?
UCC: Ok, I know, but you go first.
TCG: (Failing without trying to not look impatient) Forget about it.
UCC: Ok, no prob ---
TCG: Hey, what’s that?
WISIMH: An ancient tribal burial mound that suddenly appeared atop that parking structure? A storm cloud on the horizon bearing down on us from behind? A coven of witches in a lurid fluorescence of acid greens and chartreuse, their feline familiars screaming like banshees? A clue left at the scene of the crime in the form of a man standing on the streetcorner and twirling a sign that says something about erectile dysfunction? Is my fucking hair on fire, you douche?