When Kenton walked in from the garage, arms full of groceries, Pix was intently studying the back of her hand.
Kenton was immediately on his guard. "What are you up to?" he said. "What have you done?"
"What do you mean?" said Pix, long forked tongue flicking
(more) in and out as she spoke. "I'm just admiring the work of my esthetician."
"You only go to the salon when you're in a really good mood, and you're only ever in a really good mood when you've just done something insane to help you get over being in a really BAD mood."
Pix tossed her hand and shrugged. "You think you know me SO well. I had no special motivations. I just went. Can't you just be happy about how nice I look today?"
"Oh, yes, definitely." Kenton rolled his eyes at his wife and plunked the grocery bags down on the counter. "Your beautiful, reptilian scales are glowing with a healthy lime-green sheen. You look exquisite. It has something to do with the neighbours' dog, doesn't it?"
"Relax, K. I didn't do anything to that yapping rat. This was a completely spur-of-the-moment beautification, honestly."
"Your spontaneity is exactly what has me worried. You may be cold-blooded, but you're hot-headed. If that dog is hurt, so help me, I'll break your heat lamp."
"You wouldn't."
"I might."
"I didn't hurt it. I just... annoyed it a little."
Kenton sighed and popped his head out the front door and peered into the neighbours' yard. A pitiful-looking Yorkshire Terrier was quivering at the edge of the lawn, whining softly and pawing at its shock collar, staring at a chew toy that sat just out of reach beyond the line that marked the invisible fence.
Pix shrugged.
Kenton said, "Pix, you're a monster."(less)
