(Scene: Kitchen. Intricate choreography of two people fixing breakfast, gone awry to the point where ME is now puckishly anticipating HER moves and consciously getting in HER way.)
Me: It's a good thing you love me....otherwise one of us would probably be in jail by now.
Her: Well, it wouldn't be me. In my case it would be justifiable homicide.
Sounds wickedly familiar...except that far from "puckishly anticipating" (image = love) his moves, I truly believe that I am psychic and KNOW his next five moves. Unfortunately for both of us, I am neither psychic (perhaps if you add "ot" it will be more accurate), nor any good at chess. I must believe it; why else would I act as if I am?
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