I said I worshiped the ground she walks on, but I didn’t worship her.
She said she hated my ass for that, but she didn’t hate me.
“My ass or my guts?” I asked.
“Guts,” she said. “Ass was yesterday.”
“Ah, ok.”
We always go back and forth like this, engaging in silly examples of symbolism and metonymy until someone gives in, but there’s only so many representations of the whole you can come up with before you run out.
She waves her scepter. “The crown commands the Royal Linguists to come up with more funnies!”
The cunning linguists bow.