Here's How Much Penny Hates Snakes

Last night, at dinner, I kept glancing over at the restaurant's television, where several solemn men in sunglasses were attempting to beat each other at Texas Hold 'Em.

"No TV!" said Penelope, flagging my eyes back over to her face.

"But there's this guy with hologram sunglasses to make him look like a big fat snake." I defended. "You'd be distracted too."

Penny curled her fingers malevolently and said, "My deadly viper hand will attack you and inject you with venom if you don't STOP WATCHING TELEVISION."

I turned toward her and smiled, admiring her death-claw hand formation.

"It's true," she said. "Deadly venom."

I quickly grabbed her wrist and turned the viper toward her face, then thrust it toward her cheek.

"AIEEEEK!" she screamed, momentarily silencing the other patrons in the restaurant.

As everyone went back to eating and talking, Penny stared down at her taco salad, blushing with embarassment that she'd shrieked in fear of her own right hand.

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