“It’s spelled s-t-u-p-i-d.”

“You know, I have to wonder what she sees in you. I mean, lookit you. You’re a shady string-bean with too much ‘tude.”

“I like to think I have just enough ‘tude, thank you.”

“You’re not welcome.”

“Clearly I am, you let me in the door.”


“Too soon?”

“It’s always too soon for you, Mordecai.”

“Oh, now, Night, baby. We both know that’s not true. It’s already too late for me, remember?”

“Dead jokes? You’re making dead jokes?”

“Too soon?”


“Sorry, sorry, too soon. But Night, you know I’m right.”


“I have just enough ‘tude. Clearly she thinks so, so why don’t you? You tend to side with me in most things… Unless I’m against Ed, but birds of a feather always stick together, right?”

“…I don’t know what your problem is, but I’ll bet it’s hard to pronounce.”

“Say it with me: a-tə-tüd.”

“…that might be how it’s pronounced, but it’s spelled s-t-u-p-i-d.”

“Aww, Night!!”


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