“I told you it’d look cool,” she said, stroking his muscular breast.

He spread his hands in consternation. “I can’t help but feel like a glorified night light.”

“Oh, pshaw! You’ll get over it.”

“Yeah, when I die in the next battle. Might as well paint a bull’s eye on my back! And the antlers!? What were you thinking?!” He blinked. “Now I have to hide my face in shame.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen, dude!”

“They’re gonna call me Rudolph.”

“Oh, pshaw!”