“You’ve got something on your face.”

“What do I have on my face?”

“Here— can I get it for you?” He raises his finger to his tongue, licks it, and sends it straight to her right cheek.

“Woooah there, what ya doing?!” she exclaims, perceptibly repulsed.

“I’m going to clean your face!” he replies, a little surprised.

“With your spit? Your going to clean my face with your spit? All you’re gonna do there is make my face spitty. Spitty and dirty. No thanks.”

“What if you lick your finger and I guide your finger with my hand?” he rebuts.

“Still, it would be spitty. I’d rather be dirty than spitty. Even me-spitty. Dirty is a statement. It can be elegant. Spitty is cheap. Always cheap.”

He decides her face is better off dirty.