(Setting: My room. Some ridiculous late hour of the night.)

Me: Zzzzz...
My stomach: Hey...
Me: Nghh...
My stomach: HEY!
Me: Wsfgl?
My stomach: There is chocolate cake upstairs, and I do not have any of it. THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE.
Me: ...Shut up already.
My stomach: *sighs* Look, we've been through this sort of thing before. You know by now that I won't let you get back to sleep unless you put something in me, and I won't let you enjoy whatever it is unless it's that cake.
Me: You suck.

(I finally get up and go have a piece of cake, then go back downstairs and attempt to get back to sleep.)

My stomach: Hey.
Me: NOW what?
My stomach: I want a glass of milk.
Me: ...You've got to be kidding me.
My stomach: You can't have chocolate cake without milk to wash it down. EVERYONE knows that. Except, apparently, you.
Me: I am not getting up again to get a glass of milk.
My stomach: Fine, we can play it like that if you want. But we both know by now that you can't win this.

(Half an hour passes, while I desperately try to get back to sleep and ignore my growing need for a glass of milk. Finally, pretending I don't hear my stomach's gloating proclamation of triumph, I get up again and traipse up the stairs for a glass of milk. That taken care of, I wearily return to bed, hoping that maybe this time I'll finally manage to get some sleep.)

My stomach: Hey.
Me: IF YOU DO NOT SHUT UP I WILL REACH DOWN MY OWN ESOPHAGUS AND PULL YOU OUT.
My stomach: lol, you're a funny girl. I'm just passing on a message from your bladder.
Me: ...Wat.
My stomach: Yeah, remember that glass of milk?