“If anyone asks you if you’re taken,” I said, “the answer is yes.”“I think I can live with that,” he promised.“Good,” I said. “Because you don’t want to see me be cross.”“Too late.”“Shut up and dance, Walt.”“Shut up and dance, Walt.”We did—with the music of a psychotic griffin screaming behind us, and the sirens and horns of Brooklyn wailing below. It was quite romantic.”