TOM: Um, Katie?
KATIE: Hmm? Oh, are you still here?
TOM: I was just wondering why you couldn’t dress up a little for our friend Cameron’s Walk of Fame thing.
KATIE: Can you see me from all the way down there? How sweet.
TOM: Honey, I know your jeans are supposed to look like that, but it looks like you haven’t washed them in a month.
KATIE: Exactly. I paid a tremendous amount of money for blotchy jeans that look filthy. Get with the times, man.
TOM: And I don’t understand what’s going on with your t-shirt. Were you planning to tie it up into a pouch at your waist and smuggle out some snacks?
KATIE: Scientologist, heal thyself — is that a tag on your crotch, or just a really bright zipper?
TOM: Also, it’s hot out and you’re going to get yellow sweat stains all over that cardigan.
KATIE: I don’t sweat. I glisten.
TOM: I just think you should’ve tried a little harder for our friend Cameron. Especially because SHE seems to have put in some effort:
KATIE: What are you talking about? She looks like a giant doily.
TOM: I think it’s sweet.
KATIE: That’s probably because Suri made you that exact same thing as a Valentine’s Day card.
TOM: Oh, come on — her hair is brushed, her lipstick isn’t overpowering for once, the accessories are cute. You’re just mad because you’re wearing terrible pants.
KATIE: I can see through her skirt, Tom. Would you like me to wear a see-through skirt?
TOM: I don’t care. I’m not looking. Um, I mean, no, honey.
KATIE: I just am not sold on it.
TOM: Well, I don’t think the see-through part is that obscene, and I appreciate the effort. It’s all about EFFORT, KATIE.
KATIE: Sigh. I’m bored of fighting. Make someone else decide.