My hero!

"You have slayed the vile task, your muscles rippling and straining against the spring sunlight like a Frank Frazetta painting." She smiled, before she continued on. "As a weak and feeble woman, I have always relied on the kindness of strangers." The southern twang makes clear the reference she is making, along with the hand to her forehead mimicking a faint coming on.

She looks at you for a moment, before breaking into a goofy smile. "Thanks, I guess. I sorta thought we were a team on this, gas isn't exactly free you know. But whatever, I guess you deserve it. Now go back to your room and try not to forget about anything else. Isn't that right, Mr. Toilet Seat?"

You walked back to your room, no retort available. You lock your door, before sitting on the bed. You should've expected the sarcasm. You should've expected the deflection from firm praise to a half-joking acknowledgement. The defense buried in everything else. All were how Sephora rolled, who rarely took things seriously when given the chance. You did not expect the toilet seat, a burn so bad you wondered if Control might subtract points. Or was it a one way street with your progress only limited to positive gains?