Jow (said slowly so as to not cause sudden movements from Deb): I kind of want the new Picatrix.
Deb (crossly): No. You don’t play with the Pictatrix you have now.
(Jow looks sad) (Deb glares anyway because there are nine MILLION magic books in their house threatening to overtake their rabbit burrow/condo at any minute)
Deb (tries to be reasonable): Why do you need the new Picatrix when you don’t play with your old Picatrix?
Jow: The new one is going to be way better because – (blahblahblah, something)
Deb: Does it come in eBook format?
Jow (crestfallen): Not yet. But it might I guess . . .But the book is only $65.
Deb (who has grown accustomed to ridiculously priced books desired by Jow knows that this is not bad especially compared to the first one): Fine. If you sell your old Picatrix.
Deb: Fine. I don’t really care what you sell but books have to go. I mean it. You manage to manifest stacks of free books in the mail like a junkie and it’s getting out of control. Space in this house is finite. Get a storage space if you’re that attached but some have got to go before you get a new Pictatrix. And not, like, ‘I’ll sell them some day and they’ve lived in a rubbermaid for two years!’ But gone gone.
The end times are coming. He’s actually sorting. If they all actually leave the house then you know to get into your bunkers.