Man: Hey, it worked... We’ve got three pigeons trapped in that box thing on the roof.
Woman: Great! I’ll be back in like, twenty minutes, then I’ll talk you through plucking and gutting.
Man: I’m not doing that.
Woman: If you want a meat dinner you are. C'mon, it's the least I can do after you forces me to learn friggin' CSS. You'll need to get some rubber gloves and your least ****** kitchen knife... Oh, and some scissors, for the wings.
Man: If I puke, it’s on you. Like, literally.