Daphne: I smoked weed with Pigeon Eddie, too.
Mary: And did you run home and lock yourself in your bedroom for two days after your first toke, too?
Daphne: No, I liked pot. I liked it so much, I couldn't afford my habit, so eventually, I was blowing Pigeon Eddie for joints.
Mary: [Mary, caught off-guard, sits back down, hard] What?
Daphne: That's right, I needed smoke so bad I was screwing him on a nasty bed made out of pigeon bones and feathers. I caught the clap from some businessmen Pigeon Eddie made me sleep with when I picked up a taste for the horse... heroin... and eventually, I was sold to white slavers in Japan, and forced to make specialty porno reels for men who liked... well, Mommy doesn't think you need to know that right now, Sugar Bear. Anyway, I ended up killing one of my captors when he let his guard down. Jammed a pigeon in his ear. I stowed away on a boat to America, then slept with enough guys to make bus fare back here to Annapolis. I went and begged for my old job back at Sundley's, where I told your Father I had been studying in France for six months. We were married a few weeks later. I never smoked weed again.
