Blame Heather

Brain: As she sat on the rusted bench near the waterfront, admiring Joey’s chestnuts, Jane...

Cathy: Whoa! What the hell is that?

B: It’s the micro we’re writing.

C: No, it isn’t! I don’t want to write about some guy’s nuts.

B: But we’re following Heather’s prompt. She said to write about a food eating contest that takes place on the waterfront.

C: Joey eats hotdogs. Chestnut is just his last name.

B: So, you want to write about his wiener?

C: What? No!

B: You’re a pussy

C: You’re an ass