Look at how beautifully this is done. Very little description of body language, no "she hissed," no "she said coldly," hardly an explanation point – yet I can’t imagine anyone describing a hostile encounter any better.
The second question read: Unusual?
"Anything," Remy said, "unusual about that day?"
"Hmm. Let me see. Oh, you know what. There was this one thing. About three thousand people died. Yeah. Including my best friend. And I haven’t been able to leave my fucking apartment or turn off my fucking TV since then. But otherwise, no, I’d say it was just like every other peachy fucking day."
"No, I’m sorry, I …" Remy looked down. "I guess what I mean is … that morning. There was nothing unusual about that morning? Before? She didn’t say anything before…"
"Oh, sorry. Hmm. Let me think. Oh yeah, now that you mention it, she did say that she had a bad feeling she was going to burn to death in an inferno."
Remy shifted in his chair. "Look, I didn’t mean to upset you, Ms. Rogers."
Ann Rogers stared at him. Flat.
Remy looked back at his notes. Question three. Seeing anyone? He took a breath. "Do you know if she was seeing anyone?"
"Who did she fuck? Is that what you’re asking me, Mr. Remy? Who did March fuck? Is that what’s your asking?"
"Look, Ms. Rogers, I-"
"You want to know who banged my neighbor?"
"Then why don’t you just ask that, you fucking pervert?"
"No, you didn’t. You asked if she was seeing someone. I’m seeing you right now, but you’re not fucking me. Or are you? Are you fucking me, Mr. Remy? Is this as good as it gets with you?"
"Do you want me to tell you who she saw or who she fucked?"
"The latter, I guess."
"The latter? What’s the matter with you? Say it. Say it, you piece of shit. Say, Excuse me, Ms. Rogers, but who did your neighbor fuck?"
"Who did your neighbor fuck?"
"Oh my God! None of your business, you fucking pervert."