"You mean, like, in art?"

"Yeah."

"I think he's real smart."

"That's a start."

"You said there was a candy heart inside?"

"Yeah. And he cried!"

"Did he write that?"

"I can see the tears, dear."

"Look again, Babette."

"What do you mean?"

"How do you know they're tears?"

"Well-"

"Are they clear?"

"Uh-"

"How crinkly is the paper?"

"Hmmm."

"What do you say?"

"Maybe he spilled something."

"Sure. Go on-kid me."

"Darleene-"

"Say it."

"Say what?"

"What you're afraid to."

"And what is that?"

"He spilled something, all right."

"So?"

"He spilled his seed."

"Seed?"

"It's come."

"Huh?"

"Babette, doll. Hate to tell you this. Well, like, I don't actually hate telling you this. I mean, I think it's kind of an honor."

"Shit. I know what you're saying."

"Then you tell me."

"Yeah. He jacked oft"

"Yup. Bodacious."

"This is his sperm right here."

"Did you lick it?"

"Oh, gross, Darleene."

"I'd taste it if I were you, Babette. Lap it right on up."

"Gag me with a scumsicle."

"I'm not kidding."

"You actually would lick some guy's dried jizz right off the paper like that?"

"If it were meant for me I would."

"I'll sniff it."

"Yeah?"

"Can't tell"

"Put your tonguetip to it."

Crinkle.

Slurp.

"I can't really taste anything, Darleene. I'll try some more."

"It's the thought that counts."

"Amazing."

"Yes?"

"The longer you lick-like, the more the flavor comes out. Gets thick in your mouth. You can move it around with your tongue."

"Oooooh."

"Maybe I'm imagining it."

"Ever see his pecker?"

"Never."