There was no way Steve was going to agree to this (especially since he had already said no—not once, not twice, but three times), so Eddie did what he had to do: he pulled out the big guns.
Bambi eyes? Check. Quivering, pathetic pout? Check. Hands clasped together in the most humble, pleading way? Check.
“My beloved,” Eddie began. Syrupy, sweet voice? Check. “My beautiful boytoy, my hunky stud muffin, my gorgeous king, my main squeeze…please dress up as Princess Peach for our couples’ costume?”
Every time I bring up goldfish crackers with someone I feel like I'm losing my mind because apparently I'm the only person I know who regularly ate the plain non-cheddar version as a child and one of like four people I know who as an adult is even aware they exist so