“Yah! Who let you in here?” Mock scornful, he pointed, redirecting the goat to the door with a finger. “I told you to stay away from my daughter, do you want me to call the police? Get out of here! ”
“Do you want me to have a mid-life crisis right here, right in front of you? I’ll tell all your friends you let me leave here drunk and alone, even if I’m not allowed to take a step inside.” He scrubs his cheeks with pale digits before continuing with a baleful gaze, “At lease give me a bowl of guac’ and a couple snacks. I’ll get hungry on my way home, Martin Lawrence.”
