"Yeah. He got away from me at the radio shack." [Yorick shrugs, and cocks his head to the side.] "You can hold onto his tail, it's like God's built-in a handle."

I feel as though that would not be a strictly advisable action. [Bush vididly remembers trying this on the family cat when he was five. He tried it once. Just once.]

[Yorick shrugs, looking down, shuffling; he's attempting to decide whether to feel guilty at this accusation, or brush it off completely.]

[Talking to guys again is so weird.] "Nah, so long as you don't pull it, he won't throw shit at you. In, uh, all meanings of the word."