Enema of the State

Predator Press

[LOBO]

I’ve decided to marry Sapphire.

This marriage counselor I know is hot ... and I could drag an actual marriage on for years.

Maybe then she'll notice me.

But Sapphire, it turns out, is far too self-absorbed to marry me so I can win the love of our marriage counselor. This conversation did, however, prompt an appearance from the baby’s father:

My Presidential running mate, Edward Harrows.

“Oh my God,” I says. “You’re banging Sapphire?.”

“Yes.”

“Better’n me?”

Edward hesitates, “Sapphire says all you ever did was run around the room with your fingers in your ears, going ‘la la la la’.”

“Better’n me?” I repeat.

“Yes,” he admits. “I have no idea why she likes that so much, but I’m a Baritone.”

“Have you any idea how much this is going to effect our polls?”

“Vaguely.”

“Well, she can have all her Enya CDs back," I says. "But I’m keeping the Häagen-Dazs."

“Like hell you are.”