Miki was trying to calm down, really. She knew she was the odd one out, despite what anyone said, and she was just out of her element.
She curled up on the couch where Susan had made her sit. She began to tug on the cuffs of her sweater. She knew she looked like a frigging kid and was no doubt pouting at this point. "More like a truck not a stick." She muttered. "And he should take us to some strip clubs of our choice. And get a lap dance by someone we approve of. And babysit Hilary once a month. And write us each a thirty page apology letter in really nice calligraphy. By hand." Now she was being ridiculous. "He should fix my car. And go with us to our high school reunions and claim to be our sugar daddy. And buy us some ponies." Or a chocobo. She still wanted one of those.