The Scene: A below-freezing Saturday at the fancy-pants little restaurant where I work. A man waits with two women wearing calf-length fur coats.
The Man: (rubbing both the ladies backs) My furry women. I like my women nice and furry. ... (pointing to a young, eclectic looking couple at the bar) We'll have to be careful not to piss off the PETA people.
Woman One: (whispering to The Man) -indistinguishable-
The Man: You're right. So right. There are more important things to worry about than stupid hippy peer pressure. Like breeding more of those fucking minks to make my furry girls each a nice pair of fur chaps.*
*Okay, that last sentence was somewhat exaggerated.