I don't think so. Oh no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no,

Hey Miss Cheesecake, you know what? I'm glad you asked this fucking question. I hate chiropractors. For real. They always want to put you in a fucking pretzel. Real shit.

Can you help me with my stubble weapon? It really hurts! It really hurts! It really hurts!

Forget seeing the chiropractor. That was an option and an idea, but now it is not. Thank you for the education.

Um, no. I was going to see a chiropractor, but with all that cracking and clanking and all that, no. That's no longer an option. Thank you, though.

Oh, hell no. Girl, first of all, I don't like strangers touching me like that. Like, unless we fucking... I don't need you touching me. I don't like going to massage therapists. I end up walking out of them places like I got hit by a bat because I don't know how to relax. Damn, that was a bar. Anyways, nah, you ain't touching me like that, because I'm going to turn around and punch you straight in the throat.

Hello, good somebody