Shempy leaned over so that he had a better view of his own hand.

"Iw, you got throw-up on my hand!"

"Gross - you're right. I guess I still had some throw-up on my arm and I touched your hand. I'll go get a towel or something." Hongo felt bad about the whole mess. "Oh my god - look! There's still throw-up in that coffee mug. Have you been sipping that?"

"Oh god Hongo, I can't believe this. Get me a new mug, would you? Wait...smile for a second...Iw! You've got a huge chunk of throw-up between your front teeth!"

"Iw! Where?" He started picking at it.

"No, it's still there."

"Did I get it?"

"No, it's still there?"

"How 'bout now?"

"Ah...no, it's still there."

"Is it right here?"

"Ah...yeah, maybe you should look in the mirror." The odor made Shempy feel like he might have to upchunk.

"Hongo, I can't believe this. This whole house is filled with pools of throw-up."

"Did I get it now?"

"No, still there."

"Now?"

"Still there."

"Now?"

"No."