My cousin Ikoy wanted to play with me yesterday. Even before I could say no, he shoved me this plastic gun-sword thingy—how versatile—and ordered me to be the villain. He, of course, was the hero. He had his own gun-sword thingy, which was bigger and far more superior than the one he handed me, and he used two necklaces to adorn his face.

More in the mood to be a photographer, I asked him to pose for my digicam, which he did, the good, obedient boy that he is. When I got bored with his poses, I instructed him to do fiercer poses. You know, an arm on top of his head, hand on his wait. Feet apart, knees bent, and then concave—which I had to reword so he’d understand. After a snapshot, I applauded his inner fierce, and told him that we’d do something like that again, but fiercer!

He replied, “No, I’m not a gay robot. I don’t want a girly pose,” and then demonstrated a more macho pose.

And then I told him, “You know, these silver chains on your face, the fiercest models around the globe use them in photo shoots.”

After hearing that, he removed them, left me and decided to kill the maid with his gun-sword thingy.