Me: How do you like my new cover, EB?
EB: It stinks.
Me: You’ve told me that before, but how do you like the new cover? This is a new cover. It shows a hand a letter and the two seals. What do you think?
EB: Your new cover stinks almost as badly as your old cover.
Me: What makes you say that?
EB: What makes me say that is the fact that it stinks.
Me: What about it makes it stink?
EB Everything about it stinks. What are you dense? I thought humans were supposed to have reasoning skills.
Me: What are you in a bad mood or something? I just want your opinion on my new cover and all you can say is that it stinks.
EB: I gave you my opinion. It stinks. The only way for it not to stink is for you to do a new cover.
Me: What should the new cover look like?
EB: Like I’ve been telling you since you wrote the dumb book, it needs to have me on the cover.
Me: But it’s not really about just you. It’s about …
EB: You’re delusional. Of course, it’s about me.
Me: Not really.
EB: Don’t start with that Jesus thing again or I’ll have to bitch slap you like I did the last time we had this conversation.
Me: And you expect kids to take Easter candy from a rabbit with an attitude?
EB: I can’t help it if I’m famous. Kids will take candy from me even if it comes out of my …
Me: EB! That’s just plain vulgar, I’m surprised at you.
EB: Ohh, do I seem a little insensitive.
Me: Yes, you’re not yourself.
EB: It must be that stupid book cover of yours. Why don’t you just ask people for feedback on how to un-stink it?
Me: Maybe I will. Meanwhile, you need to wash your mouth out with soap.
EB: You’re kidding right? You see this carrot? May I suggest you…