BoxJam: What would you like to play, BoxJamina?

BoxJamina: Party! Party!

[[Ms. BoxJam joins, behind BoxJamina]]

BoxJam: Ooh - a party! Maybe a tea party?

BoxJamina: Bampur Party!

Ms. BoxJam: How about a party where they charge you $5 and then just point you to the keg?

BoxJam: Very funny - but I'm sure 'Mina means a party where you sit in a lotus position, drinking wine out of boxes and talking about Kierkegaard...

BoxJamina: Party! Party!

Ms. BoxJam: No, I think she wants a pary where you invite someone you're interested in, and then invite every other woman you've ever dated!

BoxJam: Oh, I know - a party where we just complain that somone didn't get the last six molecules of butter out of the tub before throwing it out!

BoxJamina: Party?

Ms. BoxJam: Not now, 'Mina! A party where you let the grass grow until the city calls you to complain1

BoxJamina: Party?

BoxJam: Hush, 'Mina - a party where you ignore that the yard was FLOODED...

Ms. BoxJam: A party where BITE ME...

[[The year is 2020, BoxJamina lies on a couch with a robot therapist]]

BoxJamina: ... and I have this irrational fear of social gatherings...

Robot Therapist: I... <> see...