"There's no blockades when it comes to reaching our potential, right Seeven?" Ginger asked with an inquisitorial smilrk(the only thing that fits between a smile and a smirk). She stopped to pick up a double-mint gum wrapper from the acid-stained subway station floor. "She was here," bellowed Seeven in a soprano range voice. "You are quite odd right now Seeven, almost as odd as when you ate off the face of that poor ol-" "Shut yer pan handle Ginge", Seeven yelped while tripping and losing the standing on one foot contest, "Yas know it was only that one time ye yeller bellied, not that I seen yer belly, grimy toad! No offense o' course". "None...taken?..." ginger hummed, "I still can't figure out why she'd come all the way down here just to litter?" This caused Seeven to bounce into an uproar, "R U stupid!? This is the only place she could have littr'd, don't ye get it? It'd be the last place one'd 'spect to be caught. We're in a friggen supway for crying on the inside over yer X-wife. By the way, X really does merk the spot. Right on me heart....." he sobbed heartily. Ginger tried to comfort the ape-born calligraphist. "Seeve, we'll get her. I promise. I can't really pinkie promise due to my osteoarthritis, but just know I'm promising you that much."
In the end, the emotionally unstable duo hugged it out. They also went on to further their studies in Levi-Straussology and ended up in a think tank in the better half of Carolina.
Idiosynchratically,
Kyle
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