“Magical crime,” Ana said, her tone clearly disapproving heavily of her mother's utter lack of creativity. “You couldn't even make up a decent bullshit story? Really?”
“Hey, hey! There are a lot of things normal humans can't see that you have to protect them from, you know. It's like Death Eaters in Harry Potter, except probably a bit more rubbish since they can be defeated by pubescent girls. Not saying that girls are weak, just that pubescent ones don't really have all that much brainpower, even in a group of six or so...”
“Six?! But I'm only one person! ... Oh, right, you're going to pretend some other bitches totally have magic powers too and suddenly I have to make them my best friends ever otherwise the world will end or something ridiculous and lame like that. Right?” Oh, she was like some kind of awesome genre predicting genius today!
There was a long pause in the flow of conversation, as her mother pondered this interesting idea Ana had just supplied for her. “Well, not really. I mean, sometimes they're just total bitches whether they're weird like you or not. I mean, seriously, Alexa was a such a complete bitch all the time and never shut up with her whining... on and on and on, Ana, seriously, I hope you don't have to deal with that, because God does it get annoying when it's all you're hearing all day every day and there's some other douche you're meant to be paying attention to anyway because he is totally convinced that unleashing monsters that most people can't even see is totally a good idea and I mean, what kind of reason does he have? None! No reason at all, Ana, so you're out there being awesome but oh no, Alexa has to answer the phone because it might be her 'ex-boyfriend' although that souns a lot more serious than it actually was because they went out for like, a week or something, and oh, he might take her back! And blah blah blah, same old shit...”
“... Mum?”
“... but he never did, you know, Ana? And that's just the way life goes sometimes! Sometimes either you're just too much of a bitch for him to handle. I suppose that's a bit like your father in a way; he was always running away from his problems, and look where that got him. A divorced wife and two kids and a uppity bitch of a mistress with her big tits and blonde hair – who even has blonde hair any more? Nobody! And it's so obviously dyed too, you can see her roots from at least two miles away, I bet, and it's just so disgusting and what does your father even see in her, honestly. Did he ever tell you? I bet he didn't, little shit keeps everything to himself, I swear if he had died while we were married I would have no fucking idea where our savings were, bastard was so useless with money, didn't even remember what was in his own damn bank account let alone our joint one –”
Oh. She wasn't planning on stopping any time soon, was she? Well then, onto Plan B. “Mum, if you're going to do that, then I'm just going to test your shitty story by jumping off the roof. That okay?”
“Oh, have a blast, honey! Tell me how many bones you broke when you come back, yeah?”