I went to Wal-Mart tonight with Tiffa and Kenzie. While Tiffa and I were wandering around trying to locate our lovely Titian-haired friend, we came across the car stereo section of the store. We promptly burst into laughter and avoided it like the bubonic plague.
You see, we have a history of mishaps. Tiffa and I can't go anywhere without something going awry. We have nearly been smashed flat by a semi-truck, we've managed to scare ourselves silly a thousand times, we've investigated abandoned buildings and probably done a few things that are slightly illegal. This is only a problem because one of us always has a conscience. If I don't, Tiffa does. If she doesn't, I somehow develop one last-minute.
This came heavily into play about a month ago when we were looking at CD decks and speakers for my brother's car. Cole and Tiffa were occupied with looking at speaker housings, while I amused myself with a James-Bondian CD changer. Suddenly, smothered snickers and gasps of horror came to my ears, and I turned around. Cole was coming toward me, sniggering like a Persian carpet salesman, and Tiffany came close behind, red in the face. When I asked what they'd done, Cole replied that Tiffa had dented the housing on a speaker just by tapping on it to see how hard it was.
I inspected the damage and gave her a funny look, reaching up with my own thumb to press against the red plastic. It gave slightly under my finger. Suddenly seized with an obsessive-compulsive desire to make the set match, I told Tiffa it was no big deal. See? It could happen to anyone. I pushed, and the plastic caved underneath my thumb. She burst into horrified giggles, sure I'd lost my mind and that we were going to get arrested-- or worse, have to pay for the set (retail value: approximately thirty dollars, verified at a later date). We hightailed it out of the auto section.
Tonight, recalling this idiotic expedition, Tiffa patted my arm and told me nothing else could exhibit true friendship like ruining a pair of speakers.
Really, it was nothing.