My Annoying Lecturer's
The question?

For some reason, today's weather feels so cold.

The wind blew fiercely adding to the increasingly piercing coldness.

I also turned my head towards the wind that made me half-dead cold.

"Sir! Matiin' the fan!" I said in a high tone.

Ja. Which made me cold from earlier, the fan.

Sometimes confused yes, the house as big as a palace, but the owner is overheated and severe hobby ngadem in front of the fan.

"Hot, El."

"The wind knows the taste, sir. There's AC, open it."

"The cold of the fan is more steady, El."

I'm upset, "Sunny, sir. Origin of seneng."

Mr. Arfa chuckled softly in response to my remark, "You can't stand the fan?"

"Hold it, but not face to face either sir."

"I'm kidding, really." Said Mr. Arfa then turned off the fan.

I also sat in front of the dresser. This make up managed to make my hands itchy want to be quickly erased.

"Sir.." Call me to Mr. Arfa.

"Why?"

"Do you prefer apples or oranges?"

Mr. Arfa frowned in surprise, "Why?"

I didn't respond to Mr. Arfa's words, "What do you like to eat?"

"There's allergies?"

I racked my brain to continue the questions I had prepared since, "Favorite color? A hobby?"

Mr. Arfa seemed to let out a long sigh, "I'm tired of your questions."

I chuckled softly, "Jawab only Pak one-on-one. Mr. Pinter, surely want what I asked from earlier."

Now it's Mr. Arfa's turn to put on a flat face. Hehe. Have long not seen Mr. Arfa wearing a nosebleed fierce, inexplicably lately Mr. Arfa very attention.

"First, I prefer to eat apples. So learn to cut fruit, so that fiancee can nyenengin dikit."

Mr. Arfa then gave a pause before answering the next question, "I like to eat anything. I am not picky. Hence learning to cook, I don't comment much as long as your cooking is edible."

"Allergy? It seems like there is no problem until now. I also don't check."

"Then, my favorite colors are all colors that are not bright colors. My hobby is jahilin you." Answer the real Mr. Arfa since I heard, my mouth is itching to reply.

"Sir.."

Mr. Arfa turned, "What?"

"Don't make me go away."

"Why? Didn't I answer your question?"

"But why is that hobby."

"Like me dong. My hobby is now."

I rolled my eyeballs pissed, "Once you go."

"You mad?"

"No. I smile at you." I said while showing off my teeth by force.

"looks clearly forced."

"That knows."

"I'm tempe."

"Fear father."

"Tempe can be fried."

I was silent for a moment because I was tired of seeing the behavior of Mr. Arfa.

"Whatever, sir."

"You don't have any more questions?"

I shook my head, "Well, I'm. There's a lot of."

Mr. Arfa gave the code as if I was allowed to get to know Mr. Arfa more closely.

"Father if you don't, what's the matter?"

"Little."

"It's a lie, sir."

"You know I'm busy working. It's still more."

"And who knows, sir. The proof is that I think there is a lot of free time. Can keep bothering me."

"That means I've made time for you."

"So, do you like to travel?"

"I like. Especially if someone is accompanying."

"What kind of girl do you like?"

"Don't be grandiose. I like you for who you are."

Huh huh? What did Mr Arfa say?

Mr Arfa said he likes me?

For what?

"W-what?"

"Mistake yourself you're a congee."

The astatank..

What's wrong dedek well. Always diginin.

Not tired is Mr. Arfa still bully me?

"Why are you crisp?"

"Because I'm crunchy."

"That's it.."

Mr. Arfa laughed softly, "What?"

"Fear father."

"You're a change."

"No. The proof is that I'm not laughing."

"You're a dime for things that aren't actually very funny."

"Our sense of humor is different."

"Yes. Your sense of humor is low."

"Sir, if the debate continues. When do I finish it? Wait for leap year?"

"Yes." Yeah."

"Sir.."

"What's? He said he wanted to ask? Continue to ask."

"Dad like spicy, salty, sour, or sweet foods?"

"bitter."

"Seriously, sir."

"I like spicy. You don't like spicy."

"Kok you know?"

"You're like a kid."

"Son, but I like it."

Checkmate!

Mr. Arfa has lost a lot!

After successfully removing the remnants of makeup, I also began to think about the closing question as well as the question that greatly disturbed my mind lately.

"Sir, last question from me."

"What?"

"Mr prefer me or Delia?" My toot.

Mr. Arfa was silent for a moment, as if trying to think of the right answer to the question I asked.

"Who's my engagement?"

Instead of answering, Mr. Arfa even something that is not important.

"I." Reply confused.

"Just logic. I'm more choosy than my own fiancee."

I tried to digest Mr. Arfa's words carefully.

Please, Sir.

Don't convolve.

My brain is incapable.

"So? What do you mean father?"

"Try thinking for yourself."

"I?"

"Don't know."

Omimie,

Calling my name is hard.

Basic, Mr. Arfa, byebelin!