He twisted his mustache gently and stared deeply into her chartreuse eyes.
"Rum and coke? No, dear, make that rum and ice water. I can always use a nice water after a long day bowling. Bowling is the only thing that really gets my rocks off these days, honey.
That and oranges. You wouldn't happen to have any orange Fanta, would you?"
There was no response.
Perhaps because of the sound of the Space Shuttle *Discovery* taking off behind him,
or perhaps because the woman he was talking to was actually a poorly crayoned picture of Princess Merida in his daughter's coloring book.
"Well, honey, it looks like I'll be spending another Veterans Day alone." He sighed, picked up his duffel bag filled with chainsaws, and prepared for the long drive back to Topeka.
Musical Interlude: *[Let's Get It On](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3j3okb3kuts),* Marvin Gaye
Thirty miles from home he was rear-ended by a milk truck and ejected through his windshield directly into a barbed wire factory.
His lungs were punctured and his head exploded like a chicken does if you squeeze it too hard.
The corpse laid there for weeks until someone finally realized he wasn't just a tasteless Halloween decoration.
His doctor ruled it a suicide.