It's not my fault I wanted my clothes to be extra clean. How was I supposed to know adding more detergent wouldn't get the job done?

[Thoroughly embarrassed, much more than she wants to admit, Pacifica sniffs, tosses her hair over her shoulder, and walks over the window. Only because she doesn't want to deal with him asking more questions about her laundry.]

There, it's open. [She stares at him, mouth pursed, foot tapping impatiently against the floor.] Now what, genius?