"Would you relax?" Katchoo demanded, mostly indulgent but with an edge of annoyed creeping in. Oh, and also paying no mind that her sudden urge to facepalm with a handful of charcoal crayon had left a streak across her forehead. "It's our dorm room, Francie. Who's going to walk in on us?
"What's wrong with you? Why would you ask that? It's like hanging a sign on the door saying here, universe, in here! I'm naked, screw with me. Chuck Bass is probably out there right now, just because you said that!"
Look, after living in Fandom, Francine felt she was not being unreasonable here. Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you.
"Is not nearly as warm as it looks. I think I'm coming down with the sniffles as we speak!" Or at least she could manage a real-sounding sniff, if not very snotty, after a couple of tries.
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Look, after living in Fandom, Francine felt she was not being unreasonable here. Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean they're not out to get you.
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Katchoo jabbed at the easel, hard, with her charcoal and growled, "If he is I'll rip his face off. And Clocky'll trip him first."
The long shrill whistle from somewhere by the dresser didn't need subtitles to be understood as Keep me out of this!
"Francie . . . the robe?"
That might be a little too subtle there, Chewie.
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