“WHERE’S THE LEFTOVER CACCIATORE,” he screamed from downstairs.
“IN THE REFRIGERATOR!” I screamed from upstairs.
"IT’S NOT HERE,” he bellowed.
“YES, IT IS!"
“I CAN”T SEE IT!” yelled the guy with the 20/20 vision.
“It's in there, keep looking! Probably on one of the shelves above the milk,” I sighed as I shuffled down the stairs.
“SOMEBODY MUST’VE EATEN IT ALREADY!” he wailed.
“Who could’ve eaten it?”
“I don’t know, but it’s not here, and I’ve been thinking about it all day,” he yelped.
“What’s this?” I asked, pointing to the glass covered dish above the milk.
“oh.”
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