Well, you don't. But Jeff and Michael know full and well what happened.
A whirlwind romance, the kind that they used to write epic songs about, is what happened.
Yes, I have to admit we made for quite a couple!
We were wrapping up our global jaunt when I woke up one morning to find my little Oleander Blossom looking melancholy. "What's wrong, my little Cornflower Crayon?", I asked, using one of about a million adorable nicknames I had for her. "Oh Clark (she wasn't nearly as good as I was at nicknames), I've had the most wonderful time on this trip, but I'm afraid I've kept a terrible secret from you and it's breaking my heart." "What is it, my Shrimp Scampi?" "I'm afraid...there is another."
My blood ran cold, my heart breaking into four equally-sized pieces. "Who is he?", I asked, against my better judgment. She brightened and said, "He's wonderful! So intelligent! He's extremely youthful looking and not very tall. He smokes, which is a nasty habit, but he does it with such style and grace that I don't even mind." The four pieces of my heart exploded into several thousand pieces of indeterminable shapes and sizes. "What's his name?", I hissed between clenched teeth. "It's Henry, but he pronounces it funny, like in a European way. Like, On-ree".
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| THIS motherf... |
The scattered, shattered and covered pieces of my heart came together like the individual members of the Ohio State University marching band during a college football halftime show to form a giant foot kicking a baby through a window.
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| Oh Jessie, Jessie, Jessie |
Yes. Him.
I proceeded to jump overboard and swam however man miles it was to shore. From there, I returned to the sides of my comrades Jeff and Michael a broken and bitter, no-longer-young-man, man. A man ready to dedicate his life to helping his loyal chums stylishly kicking butt... and taking revenge against a certain chain-smoking little blob of yuck.
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