Kerplunk. An unceremonious dumping, to be sure. So much for the snake.
"I dunno." Abbey shrugged, at a loss for noteworthy hobbies, as though not worshiping the dark lord indicated a boring lifestyle. Maybe it was because she only had ice cream for company tonight, but Abbey felt a sudden pang of self-consciousness. "Booze, fisticuffs, gators..." When nothing else of importance came to mind, she drew upon a film for reference. "You know, rockin' and rollin' and whatnot." Perhaps she should try turnabout. "What about you?" She felt as if she knew less and less about the woman as the conversation rolled on. Snake catcher. Foreigner. Snob. Either a Native American or a Satanist.