Dante looked at Fate suspiciously. “And nothing. I’m not here to feed your fuckin’ ego.”
“Saying something nice to me isn’t feeding my ego, it’s…?” He shrugged.
“All right, all right. I was going to say that you remind me of a rootin’ tootin’ Wild West star. You swagger when you walk, and there’s a lot of confidence in that swagger.”
“Awww, you know that ain’t true. I’m just average.” He stole a shy look at Dante. “Really? You meanit?”
“Average, hell. You’ve got personality, charm, and to top it all off, you’ve got a big dollop of sex appeal. Believe me, that’s a lot better than being ‘pretty’ like I’ve been called. What real man wants to be called pretty? Yuk!”
“Yeah,” Fate said, with a silly grin. “Well I guess every man has his own cross to bear.”
Dante turned and looked at him and saw the grin. “You bastard. You tricked me into saying all that just to feed your fuckin’ ego.”
“And you fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. Suckeeeeer!”