She jumped out of her chair angrily. "I can't believe you'd try to trick me like that!"
I felt ashamed; I should have known that she could—and would—believe that it's not butter.
Triumphant, she demanded I place the "recognizing butter" merit badge she had rightfully earned on her sash.
Damn - I thought - am I suppose to indulge here for such a foolish thing?
But the social contract hung over me, Damoclesian, and so I rolled up my pant legs, forced a smile, and waded in.
The preceding was a story you participated in on Thursday, October 30 2014. The sentence in bold is yours.
Sentences in this story path were contributed by Anonymous, aparrish, SS Ghot Z, Ognen Azder, and Josh Millard.