“No you didn’t notice. As soon as she got here, she plugged in her iPod to loud speakers and started blasting her crappy depresso-music to everyone. I am going to go insane. Not only that, but she said my painting had to go. It’s an original Patrick Fuenz. She said it was too bright and happy. Then she puts up cheap band posters that are depressing with pictures of hearts being stabbed and shit like that.”

“Hey,” said Deborah, “speaking of stabbing things, let’s go to the Fireside Grill and get some steaks. My treat.”

“Yay,” said Ami.

“It’ll give you a chance to forget about Anise,” Deborah suggested.

“Well, I have yet to forget about her. I swear, I will cut her wrists in her sleep and no one will believe she didn’t do it to herself.”

“Now that is extreme even for you,” said Deborah.

The two girls took the elevator down to the first floor and began walking out to the parking lot.

“Alright,” she said. “I won’t kill her, but I might get one of those roommate agreement things.”

“That is more constructive.”

“I mean, I would rather have you as a roommate even if you needed your diapers all the time. Let’s take my Eclipse. It is faster.”

“Are you kidding?” ask Deborah. “My Crown Vic may look older, but I have a 5.8 liter V8 Police engine. We are taking the Machine.” Deborah hopped in the driver’s seat of her car and waited for Ami to get inside.

“This looks a lot like an old person’s car with no hubcaps,” said Ami as she got inside. She buckled up and closed the door.