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[classification]

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[classification]

It's driving lessons. Those aren't fun.

[ What. The shit. ]

The same ones?

[douchebag]

I could make them fun. ME. Not him. Have a boring time together.

NO NOT THE SAME ONES.

1/2

[classification]

No, you couldn't. You're not a good driver, Felix.

[classification]

[ This comes as an afterthought almost, ]

You're not putting him in mine, are you?

[ HE KNOWS IT'S HAPPENED BEFORE! ]

[douchebag]

Sometimes bad driving can be fun. Christ.

And no. Before you have a conniption, I'm putting him in MY sweaters. I'm wearing yours.

[classification]

If you really want to learn, I can teach you. But you have to listen to me.

[ He doesn't know how to ask to send a pic, so he is just banking on getting home in time to see it. ]

[douchebag]

[ "Send me a picture." It's really easy. Four words. ]

Are you going to get mad when I screw up? Because I'll probably screw up at least once.

[classification]

[ It feels stupid to say... ]

If you screw up but listened to me and it is a genuine accident, no.

[douchebag]

Then yes. Try to teach me.

[ And because he's feeling less like a sulky baby, he takes a selfie. In it, he's smiling and wearing about four of Locus' sweaters. Leon, laying on the bed atop a mound of clothes, is indeed wearing one of Felix's. The novelty sweater with the taco on it. ]

[classification]

[ It's not like he's saving that or anything. ]

Why do you have so many on?

[douchebag]

I'm trying to see what it's like to be you. It's not really working the way I thought it would.

[classification]

By putting on half a dozen of my sweaters?

[douchebag]

I'm trying to bulk up! Probably would've been more successful with one of those puffy coats now that I think about it.

[classification]

You haven't been able to get any bulkier in fifteen years.

[douchebag]

I know. I don't get it. It's not like I don't work out.

[classification]

You don't have the body type. You're not lacking.

[douchebag]

No, but it'd sure be fun to look like one of those sculptures of the perfect male physique.

[classification]

There's nothing wrong with how you look.

[douchebag]

You don't secretly think I have a rat face?

[ Lozano's insult still haunts him. ]

[classification]

No. What would be the point of secretly thinking something like that?

[ When he can secretly think of plans and jobs and work????? ]

[douchebag]

[ That is so fucking boring. Maybe he should secretly think Felix has a rat face. ]

YOU THINK IT OPENLY?!

[ Surprise! Trick question! ]

[classification]

[ He's never really associate Felix's face with anything other than being Felix's face. Isn't that what faces are for? ]

Have I ever said that?

[ What is happening. ]

[douchebag]

Okay, let me let you in on a secret.

If someone asks you if you secretly think something unflattering about them, the only right answer is to say you don't think it at all. Immediately. Without hesitating.

Kind of like if a woman asks you if something makes her look fat. It's a trick. If you hesitate, you're in trouble. If you say yes, you're in a LOT of trouble. And if you say no, you're probably still in trouble because she won't believe you.

[classification]

That's ridiculous.

[douchebag]

That's because women make no fucking sense. Look, I'll prove it. Next time we're at work, I'm maneuver Traci into asking me.