from The Wolf of Wall Street (an obvious Getbigger)
I removed my arms from beneath the white silk comforter, careful not to get them tangled
in the thousands of tiny pearls that had been hand-crocheted onto the fabric. Then I cocked
my elbows, like chicken wings, giving the irate Duchess a bird’s-eye view of my mighty biceps ....
That seemed to slow her down—but only for a second. She said, in a mocking tone,
“Will you stop flexing your arms, please? You look like a fucking imbecile!”
“I wasn’t flexing my arms,” I said, unflexing my arms.
