Secrets aren't really my thing. I mean, okay, so-- we all have them. They're secrety. I get it. People on the whole are secret-having and that's why we have secrets.
Can't there just be an 'opt-out' switch? [ she holds up her envelope, eyebrows lifting. ]
What if I just burn this, without ever reading what's inside? [ buffy turns the paper over, a slightly pensive frown creasing her features. ]
Here's the deal. The real-deal. This deal is so real they won't even put it on TV, real. Really. Dealy
. So ask me a question any question, Wonderland. Because I'm willing to bet I know what's in this stupid thing anyway.
Which brings me to the real meat of my little speech. Don't ask me how words are meaty, they just are, and it's less gross than saying 'fatty.' But all of us, especially the girl-types of this venture, could use a night in. That's right, stick people of the skirt variety, I am proposing a girl's night hosted by none other than me. Buffy. [ for the first time in the post she smiles, her envelope coming into view again. ]
And if for some reason these little things end up in the fire? We can blame it on the wine.
Oh, and someone, please bring wine! Room 2 Floor 2!! Xander, you're invited too. Scratch that, your presence is required
. And you totally have girl's night precedent so gender is no issue of question. [ and later on that night, buffy sits in her room and waits for her guests, wearing bunny pajamas, only pretend they don't have feet because pedicures are a thing that are happening. anyone is welcome to respond to the post but if you have a penis and your name is not alexander harris you will get turned away from the room, sorry