Shelly can’t live without chocolate. But the funny thing is, the only chocolate Shelly cares about is dark chocolate–without the milk. I’m not sure if it’s already implied that dark chocolate doesn’t have milk in it. Maybe I need to research these things…
Shelly keeps three bars of chocolate in our fridge.
One day, Shelly accused me of digging into her chocolate–and all hell broke loose.
Just kidding about the hell breaking loose. We don’t get into fights–not yet.
Shelly’s luxury is her chocolate. After she accused me of eating some, she came up with a scapegoat. Or I came up with the scapegoat. Obviously I did because Shelly was the one accusing me.
Now we have a policy regarding chocolate. It goes like this: if you eat it, admit it. No, this isn’t Confession, and no, I didn’t lie, cheat, steal, or sleep with three dozen pigs.
Just admit you ate the fucking chocolate!