“You’re bleeding all over my couch.” I groaned. “Excuse the hell out of me.”

“I peek over the back of the couch and there she is, my goddess of death, her hair snaking out in a great black cloud, her teeth grinding hard enough to make living gums bleed.”

“Okay," I began. "You’re too old for me. You’re scary. It’s creepy that you were so all over my mom and now you’re all over me.”

“How could I sit here and ask this stranger to help me pick up the facts of my life? The shopping bags had burst and all my things were rolling out over a packed pavement with me scurrying after them, stooping and bumping and tripping: Excuse me, I'm sorry. Could you just...Excuse me.”

“Hopping over the side of the couch I landed on top of him. "My bones are so heavy! I don't think I can move." I groaned."Ack!" he grunted. "I can't breathe.""Oh noes! However will I get up so that my bubby can breathe?”

“Either you’re with me or you’re against me. I can’t afford to be looking over my shoulder all the time waiting for you to stick a knife in my back.”