“I hate you. You are the reason fungus exists. You are the slime that grows in swamps that even acid can’t break down—”“How long do you plan to keep this up, Rhubarb?”“Why?”“Because I was going to hail down a bottle of beer and I figured you might get thirsty having your mouth open so much.”“Make it a white wine and I’ll keep it short.”“No, you won’t, but it might slow you down. Be right back.”