He never gets acne. However, this afternoon when arriving home from a two night Boy Scouts camping trip his face has broken out.
Phaedra goes into the bathroom comes back and confronts him, "Here Mav. Take this. You need it."
"Uhhhhh....Really? What is it?"
The jar is in her left hand and a small, damp, white, quilted, cotton buffer clamped in between her index finger and thumb, "It's a Stridex acne pad. It'll help you. Wipe it across your acne covered face. It looks like you have herpes on your mouth. It'll clear it up quickly."
"No! That's the rudest thing you've ever said to me!"
"No it's not. I've been much meaner."
He walks away from her.
She follows closely behind to corner him in his bedroom, "Seriously. It looks like you've been making out with a hooker. Are you sure that's not mouth herpes? You need this acne pad!"
He slams the door in her face while I am hysterically cackling at this interchange.
I'm no help.
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