Marjorie and Brent dug greedily into their respective cups of vanilla Dip'n Dots.
The frozen treat had a harder, crunchier texture than Marjorie remembered. Some of the small beads of ice cream scratched at her throat as she swallowed and sat heavy in her stomach.
"What's wrong?" asked Brent, taking notice of Marjorie's puzzled expression.
"Something's wrong with my ice cream," Marjorie explained. "It's crunchy or something."
Brent raised his hand to his face to stifle a laugh.
"What?" asked Marjorie.
"I finally got you, you dumb bitch," Brent tittered, his voice lifting two octaves in his glee. "You're going to die and I'll be free!"
"Oh, Christ, Brent. What the hell did you do this time?"
"I poisoned your ice cream, you frigid cunt!"
Marjorie rolled her eyes, sure this would turn out "What, pray tell, did you poison my ice cream with, dear?"
"I mixed two packs of silica gel in with your dots. It shouldn't take long for you to feel the effects."
"Oh, Brent, you perfect retard," Marjorie sighed. "First, I'll remind you that every time you call me a cunt it makes my powers grow stronger. Secondly, silica gel is labelled "do not eat" because it's not food, not because it's poison, you immeasurable twit."
Brent sat with his mouth agape, a scoop of ice cream hovering in front of his face.
"Now give me your ice cream," Marjorie instructed, "and you're going to finish mine." She slid the silica-laced cup across to him.
Brent cried as he ate.