Okay, maybe I made that up. Maybe he was just playing with the hairs on his legs, and playing Sim City 4 . Hey, it's practically the same thing. He looked up from his game, glanced over at me, and saw the frown on my face. "What?" he asked.
"Corb," I announced, quite seriously. "I'm dying."
I couldn't believe his reaction. He actually started to grin. "How are you dying, Ted?"
I touched at my chest, my eyes downcast. "I think I have heart problems. It's been coming on me the past few days. I think I'm going to have a heart attack any time now."
Corb continued to smile. "A heart attack, huh? What happened to the Alzheimer's that you were convinced you were getting?"
I dismissed that. "Oh, that was last week. I'm so over that, now. I've decided I'm fine with that. My brain's working perfectly well."
"Mmmm hmmm. Think again."
"No, but I'm serious, with this one!"
He gave me one of those "come on" faces, and rocked back in his chair. "Uh huh."
"I'm serious! You know that pain in my neck that I had after we went to Cracker Barrel?"
He chuckled, and rocked his chair back even further. "Yeah, I think his name is Tiger."
He grinned and landed back on the ground with a soft thud. "And how about the horrible venereal disease that you thought you had?"
"Oh." I shrugged. "That's all better, now."
"Uh huh. Didn't go to a doctor for that one, did you?"
"Ummm...no...are you saying I'm a hypochondriac?"
"You'll regret that!" I said, working my way into a faux dramatic frenzy. "When my face gets all red and I collapse on this floor and die with my tongue hanging out, you won't be laughing then!"
He stared at me calmly for a minute. "Right." He said, and then went back to playing his game.
"Think about trying to keep your tongue in your mouth, though," he called out, as I stormed into the living room. "Very unattractive."
It's very hard to play Dr. Smith in an apartment full of Dons.