Damn, Jacob, stop staring at that girl.

I’m not staring, I’m just admiring from over here. Subtly.

That’s what passes for subtle at the Lowe household?

No, seriously, I wasn’t staring, was I?

You were, but I can see why.

Oh really now, Professor?

Everyone wants to fall in love with the little punker chick. Maybe when he’s a teenager or maybe it doesn’t hit until he’s in his thirties, but every straight guy wants to date one.

How do you figure?

Well, they represent such an ingrained concept to you. They’re the rebel, the caution thrown to the wind, but mixed with a younger girl which also makes it illicit, even if you’re the same age they are when you get the first crush on one. But most people never actually date one. Not really.

What are you, Sherlock fucking Holmes? Should I sit here and make contented noises while you speechify at me until my head falls off?

It’s be nice. Nicer if I had a pipe or something.

Oh for fuck’s…

Seriously though. Have you ever dated one?

A punk chick?

A little punker girl.

Nope.

Exactly! Me either. But the urge is still there…

I don’t know about that. And how is the urge there for you? What with the whole not being into girls thing and whatnot?

My sexuality is not what’s on the table here. You’ve never wanted to date one? Never seen one and had a rush of thought telling you how wonderful it would be, even if you didn’t know why?

… I’ll give that one to you.

Fine then. Don’t try and front here, son.

Don’t whip out that bullshit fake “son” shit.

Whatever. My point stands. It’s an eternal desire. It can be pushed too far, too. The whole Suicide Girls crap, that’s taking it too far, taking what was a natural urge based on some very simple reasoning and elevating it to sheer porn that ruins the whole concept. The idea isn’t to actually get the punker chick. It’s to desire her. Getting her never works out as well as wanting from afar.

What are you, some fucking expert?

I see things.

Oh, well that just explains it all. ‘I see things’. You and Uri fucking Geller. Bend that spoon, then.

The facts remain. Mock all you want.

And I will. But all right, let’s assume you’re right.

Because I am.

And we’re going to run with that idea for a second. Wouldn’t Tashi know all about this?

She does.

Then we can just ask her when she gets here.

Do you think this is the first time this subject has come up? That this theory is a virgin birth, right here, before your eyes and among the beer and coffee? Natasha knows all about this.

What then? Everyone else knows this, huh? you sit around with everyone you know and have this discussion with them but somehow I’m, what, late to the party? Briefed them all on your wack-job little theories and made sure they’re all on your side to… to what, make sure you’re right?

From Watson to Nixon in one easy step. Slow down, Brian. There is no conspiracy, this just ain’t the first time I’ve had this thought, all right? We can ask Natasha about it when she gets here if you want.

I’d like to. She used to be quite the little punk chick from what she says.

Ask her to show you the pictures.

There were pictures?

There are always pictures.

Pictures of what, dearlings?

Tashi!

Natasha, dear, Jacob here was just asking me about…

When you were a punk.

No, he was doubting that all men want to date punk rock women.

Oh they do. Truth’s there, dearlings. I have the stories, the scars, and the life to prove it.

And the pictures.

Now who says there are pictures?

Uhm… well…

Marky mark.

There may be pictures, but these alleged pictures do not matter. Because they do not exist.

Then how are they alleged?

Exactly, Jacob! You grow with wisdom!

No, wait that didn’t make any sense at all.

Worked for me.

That’s because you’re in trouble.

Truth’s there, Mark, dear. You truly are. Talking about the pictures. You weren’t supposed to, or did you forget?

So there are pictures?

I forget. No of course there aren’t.

Never seen a … what did you call those things?

Pictures.

Never heard of the concept.

You’re such a good boy when you fear a beating.

Why can’t I see these pictures?

Because they don’t exist. And anyway they aren’t the point. The point is that all men want this idealized image of what they think that girl will be and none of them want to date the real person.

So it’s like every other relationship, then, but with more leather.

Yeah, kinda.

Sadly that may prove to be true.

Which brings us back to the real question!

What?

Can I see the pictures?

Of course not, Jacob! They are hardly decent for viewing!

Can I bribe you for them then?

Doubtful.

She has a weakness for ponies!

Ha! Right! For a pony, then!

Or maybe a robot? Or a robot pony. Ponybot. Bring unto me a Ponybot and we can discuss the viewing of these pictures that may or may not exist.

Come on! Do they or don’t they?

They do, dearling.

I am so building a robotic pony this weekend…