Look under the bed.

...No, not in the bed. Get up, you. Right now! Yesterday was the last day you put this off. I'm not kidding.

...No, no, we're done looking on The Internet. If it's there, it's hiding behind the donkey porn and that's just not worth it. Let's try the back yard, in the sandbox maybe. Is your creativity there? Come on, down on your knees and look! It's been years since I've heard that giggle of yours, that little bell that says you've done something unique; and dammit I want to hear it again.

...Not in the sandbox, eh? What about the garden? Don't whine at me about dirt; things grow in dirt. Get in there! Here's a trowel! Kill that earwig, play with that worm! Dig, damn you!


...Nothing, you say? You're leaving, you say? You need a shower more than you need me? You need your adult dose of the evening news and a proper cup of herbal tea?

...Oh. Sure you won't stay? We could play the guitar and hit the bong and you could sing while I...


I see. Well, I guess I can admit it now...I think I found your creativity. I guess I ate it. I must have been hungry for something...

...Dude, you should write your name on things like that. Really.

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