“It’s all gone pear shaped,” cried Dan, curling his lip.
“Whatever are you talking about,” retorted Veronica, flipping through a fashion zine.
“That designer frock you said you’d die for. It’s gone off the model in the display window.”
“That old rag. I was just kidding.”
“Uh-oh!” Dan free-wheeled, swinging a Boutique bag.