What's Next? If There Are

Derek Looked Around, Like He Was Searching For Something To Use. Then He Stripped Off His Shirt. I Tried Not To Look Away. Not That He Looked Bad Without His Shirt. The Opposite, Actually, Which Is Why...let's Just Say Friends Are Really Better When They're Fully Clothed.

Oh, My God! It's A Killer Pomeranian." I Glanced Up At Derek. "it's A Tough Call, But I Think You Can Take Him.

As I Recall, I Was Still Dressed When I Fell Asleep." "just Making Sure You Were Comfortable." "and Making Yourself Equally Comfortable, I See.

Boo," I Said. He Reacted As All Mutts React When I Confront Them. He Leapt From His Chair And Dove For The Nearest Exit, Shaking In Terror. In My Dreams. He Glanced At Me And Started Looking For Clay. It Never Failed. Mutts Only Quaked When I Appeared Because It Usually Meant Clayton Wasn't Far Behind. I Was Nothing But A Harbinger Of Doom.

Maturity Is Highly Overrated.