"You know you love it." "Uh, no, I don't. Your feet are colder'n a witch's tit, man." "A what?" "Nevermind." "You're so redneck sometimes." "Whatever. I'm a redneck fixin' to beat your ass if you try to wiggle your toes under my ass again." "How else am I supposed to get 'em warm?" "Try socks." "No fun at all." "Try it again, and I swear to God I will shove you right off this couch." "Aw, baby, if you wanted to wrestle, why didn't you say so?" "You know...I like you better when you're doing other things with your mouth that don't involve actually speaking." "That an invite?" "Well, it's either fight or fuck, and if we fight, you know we'll just wind up fucking anyway. Figured we could cut out the middleman." "And my feet?" "By the time I'm done with you, I promise they'll either be warm or you won't care."
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