Yeah, it’s hardwood, but man is it “skinny”. It won’t last long enough to start the marshmallows. Enough with the jokes about telephone poles and beanstalks and whatever pun or riddle you have in your funny little brain. I know that I’m skinny, and that you’re not, so there’s no need to make the over and over and over again, okay? That thing about me blowing away on a windy day? Not funny. How about getting stranded in the wilderness and wondering who’s going to starve first? Not funny, either. You know, some people are actually very self-conscious about their weights. I mean, I’m not self-conscious at all, but some people are. And it’s not nice to hurt their feelings by making those jokes. I don’t say that you’re as fat as a hog or as wide as a house, do I? Okay, so maybe I just did right then, but it was theoretical. I didn’t mean it in the way you always mean it with me. Have we come to an understanding? Do you promise to stop teasing me? Because if the bullying doesn’t let up, I just might burn out when your marshmallow is one shade away from being a perfect golden-brown, and you’ll have to eat a raw s’more. If that’s not a valid threat, I don’t know what is.