I can't even look at you without getting

I can't even look at you without getting flustered. I didn't want to feel this way about you, but it happened. I don't know what to do. All I know is that I fell in love with you.

She looked at me and inhaled awkwardly. "Dude, I'm in a relationship with Damien, Sorry..." Damien! I thought as she hurried off. That bastard ruined my plans for the LAST time!

I marched off to my car, revving up the engine before slamming the door. My blood boiled and I could barely enter Damien's address into the GPS. No matter--I knew the way by heart.

It was past midnight when I pulled into the driveway, but the party was still in full swing. I could hear the music even from inside my car, the pounding of the drumbeats only

made me more anxious about the explosive collar strapped around my neck. If the bass player got a little bit too funky, the whole house would be flattened. I stepped out of my car

, opened the trunk, and put a explosive bangle around every limb, and two miniatures on each testicle. "If Imma blow up that nasty Micheal Jackson impersonator, Imma do it right."

I swaggered into his house through awkward side-to-side movements, accommodating the miniature explosives wrapped around my testicles. Dave sat there playing the oboe. "DIE DAVE!"

I screamed as I clapped my incendiary balls together in his direction. But Dave just sat there playing his oboe like the schmuck he was. Duds. My ball-bombs were duds. As the music

wormed its way pass my perimeter, my ear muffs, & into my ears, I was already bringing up my reserve units to flank his Pyrrhic victory with his daughter's head in a nice hat box.