"Careful," Myx said.
"You noticed how gently I leaned you in there," I said.
"Don't you think we've just about done the cactus thing to death, Dave?"
"If I were in contact with it, yes. As long as you're volunteering to--"
"When do I ever volunteer for your wacky pictures?"
"Would it kill you to play along once in a while?" I guess this is the kind of question I don't expect to be answered.
"You're thinking that that's a rhetorical question, aren't you?"
"No," I said. Hey, it's still not a crime to lie to a book in Arizona! "I'm thinking this thing has pretty flowers."
"This is a barrel cactus. Native Americans boiled young flowers to eat like cabbage and boiled the older ones for a drink. This is also known as a candy barrel cactus because they used to make candy out of its flesh."
Because of his brilliant synesthetic eidetic memory, Myx had an encyclopedic knowledge of--
"You're thinking how smart I am," Myx said.
"No I'm not," I replied.
Still not a crime!
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