# By the Sea

Jack kicked open the back door and stomped down the steps to the white sand of the beach, wood and canvas beach chair under an arm.

The sun glinted off the blue-green waves, a vast shimmering stretching out to touch the pale blue sky in front of him. The sand was hot under his feet and stuck between his toes. He grumbled and adjusted his sunglasses. Even with them on, he had to squint. He stopped halfway to the high tide mark, staring at the waves crashing against the flattened sand. He tightened his grip on the chair. A bead of sweat rolled down his scalp. He was already too hot and wanted to go back inside, where he would be free from the glare of the setting sun. 

He forced himself to unfold the chair and smash it into the sand. Once he sat down it would be fine.

A seagull called out above him and he snapped his head up. Several of the winged rats were circling above him, waiting for food. He ripped his eyes away from them and sat down. There was no food here. They could fuck off to a public section of the shore where the messy kids and unattended snacks covered every square inch of sand. Up here there was no one but him stupid enough to sit out in the afternoon sun. For a neighborhood of beach homes, it was rare that he would see another body. He suspected that most of the houses surrounding him were part of investment portfolios.

Jack closed his eyes. If he focused hard enough on the sounds of the waves he could almost forget the emails waiting for him back inside. The meeting hadn’t gone as well as he hoped, but that was par for the course these days. He dug his feet into the sand, seeking out the cooler layer below. If it wasn't a critical project falling behind schedule *again*, then it was team leads actively attempting to sabotage each other.

In any case, it was the end of the fiscal year and everyone was running around trying to get numbers crunched and reports written. He snorted and focused on the heat of the sun on his face. His team was doing fine. He didn't need to attend some time-waste of a meeting only to be yelled at by the company president, or get thrown under the bus by the other pathetic excuses for managers. Sometimes he wondered how the company managed to continue hobbling along, but at the end of the day all that mattered was that those whining cunts stayed the fuck out of his way. God, if he could reach through the laptop screen and wrangle their necks.

He took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out while doing his best to expel the tension in his clenched fists. He was alone out here on the beach. There was no one to bother him, no one to set his temper off. It would do him good to listen to the waves and allow his mind to stop thinking.

The cartoon sound of a falling object made him scowl. The sound grew in intensity until it felt like someone was playing slide-whistle right next to his ear, and then a heavy body plopped into his lap.

"Jackie!" cried a voice. Jack didn't so much as twitch a muscle. "You're early!"

The body stretched out and wrapped a pair of feathery arms around his neck. A beak rubbed up against his chest and he opened an eye to a tuft of pink-dyed feathers.

"Get off of me," Jack said. The feathers shivered in the breeze and a wave crashed over the sand. The feathers shifted, and a head rose up to look him in the eye.

"Aw," said the seagull toon, pouting. "But I haven't seen you in weeks!" Jack glanced between the seagull's big green eyes, then closed his own. If he didn't answer, it would go away eventually. It might take the rest of the afternoon, but it would eventually leave him alone. He wasn't going to get sucked into another argument, not after that bullshit in the morning with accounting playing favorites with the budget.

"What happened to you, Jackie?" asked the gull. It shifted, pushing itself to a seated position. Jack was unable to stop a grimace from darkening his face. It might have been a bird, but that didn't stop it from feeling like someone had placed a sandbag on his groin. A feathery sandbag that said stupid shit and ate anything that came within reach of its grubby hands.

"You're so quiet these days," said the gull. "Every time I come over it's all I can do to get a single word out of you. How come you don't talk to me anymore? Is it because you live in that fancy house now?" The gull gasped, shifting in a way that compressed Jack's groin in an even more uncomfortable way. "Or have you found someone else to replace me with?"

He opened his eyes at the gull's tone. There was a note of distress that was strangely real. It sounded vaguely familiar and he looked up at the sky, trying to place it.

The gull covered its beak with its hands, green eyes pin-pricks in exaggeratedly large white sclera. Another wave crashed over the sand, and the gull's open black hoodie rippled. The shirt underneath was too small, feathers poking out from the neck and the subtle bulge of his stomach below. The image of that face brought a memory bubbling up to the surface in Jack's head, one where he was one foot into that ancient van he used to drive and looking down at a similar panicked face. He scowled and pushed the memory away.

"Get fucked, Kevin," said Jack. All these years and the dumb bird *still* couldn't catch a hint.

The gull's eyes returned to a more normal state and he lowered his hands, a smile peeking out from behind those white feathers.

"That's more like it," Kevin said. "I was beginning to think that the old you was gone forever." A muscle in Jack's jaw twitched. He had to open his mouth and ruin it, didn't he?

Kevin hummed and looked up at the sky, clasping his hands together. Jack closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the chair back. The one time he wanted some peace and quiet this stupid bird had to show up after being gone for months.

"I'm not in the mood for your bullshit right now," Jack said.

"Oh?" Kevin said. He leaned forward, reaching out to trace a lopsided circle on Jack's chest with a soft finger.

Jack tensed, a shiver rolling down his spine. The sun overhead felt cold and small like a Minnesotan winter, providing nothing but light. 

Kevin rolled his hips slowly, butt grinding into Jack's crotch. Jack had forgotten how soft that butt was.

"Let's have some fun again," Kevin whispered into Jack's ear. "Like old times. You miss it, don't you? I haven't seen anyone but you inside that sexy house of yours, and you never go out. Except for corporate dinners, but the only kind of ass you get at one of those is expensive and small." Kevin stopped moving, his rear warm and heavy on Jack's hips. "And I know enough about your taste that you would never be satisfied with something small and expensive." Kevin licked Jack's ear.

Jack flinched and struck Kevin's chest with a forearm, bowling the bird backwards off his perch and onto the sand face-first. Jack stared down, heart pounding and a tingling in his fingers. After a moment, he closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. Everything was fine. That shiver that had went down his spine had been one of revulsion, not pleasure. He wasn't that lazy, hedonistic wreck of a man anymore. He was successful now, a man with everything that he could wish for and a bright future ahead of him.

He opened his eyes and stared out at the ocean and its endless waves. So why was his chest so empty?

Kevin pulled his beak out of the sand and spat, wiping his face off and whining. He pushed himself up to a seated position, legs stretched out to either side as if to intentionally show off the pink thong he was wearing.

"Bleh!" Kevin said, wiping sand from his tongue. "I hate sand. It's the worst part about the beach. It gets everywhere, and especially in places where I *don't* want it. Did I ever tell you that the last time we had some fun I was picking sand out of my feathers for weeks?"

Jack slumped back and stared up at the perfectly blue sky and its lack of clouds. Kevin always brought that story up when he dropped by. Jack assumed it was an attempt to remind him of earlier days, back when the two actually enjoyed seeing each other. Now that enjoyment was decidedly one-sided, and he had no idea why the stupid bird kept seeking him out.

Kevin's stomach rumbled. Jack pushed his sunglasses up with a hand and rubbed his eyes.

"Before you ask," Jack said, "I don't have anything for you."

"Aw, c'mon," Kevin said. "I haven't even asked for anything yet."

"You always do."

The sea breeze died, and the air grew oppressive. Kevin huffed. "You're not even going to let me ask?"

"I told you last time that was it. No more free hand-outs."

Kevin scrunched the sand with a foot, and Jack could picture in his mind's eye the bird's head lowered to stare at the sand, eyes occasionally darting up to check his expression and hands clasped behind his back. Jack pinched the bridge of his nose and kept his eyes shut. He pushed the image out of his head. That was how he lost the last time.

"I won't ask it for free," Kevin said.

Jack snorted and opened his eyes a fraction before squeezing them shut again. Thank the gods that his hand was still covering his face, or that could have gone south real fast. That damned bird and his stupid pink-dyed feathers and idiotic watering green eyes and pathetic quivering beak. A muscle in his forehead twitched and he forced himself to unclench his jaw. He had to get Kevin to leave, or something bad was going to happen.

"I know you don't have any money," Jack said.

"Why is it always money with you?" Kevin said. A shadow fell over Jack's face and he took the chance of peeking through his fingers. Kevin was pouting, hands on his hips.

"Because you already owe me eighty bucks, and I've never seen you work a day in your life."

"Yeah, well—" Kevin closed his eyes and stuck his tongue out at Jack, who shook his head.

"Really? When are you going to grow up and realize that you can't live off the goodwill of your friends for the rest of your life?"

"It's worked for me so far. Besides, I know you love pretending that you're a good person that gives back to the community. What better way of doing so than treating your oldest friend to a big dinner?"

Jack lowered his hand and let his sunglasses drop back down. He stared at the bird incredulously, no longer caring about being swayed by a set of teary eyes and quivering beak.

"When did you get so shameless?" he asked.

"Who, me?" Kevin said, tilting his head and blinking owlishly. "Shameless?"

Something in the back of Jack's mind snapped. He couldn't tell if it was the subtle head tilt, or the grating sing-song tone, but the emptiness in his chest was replaced with a burning rage.

"Yeah," Jack said, sitting up and pointing a finger at the bird's face. "Every time you pop up you ask for more and more shit as though the fact that we went to the same high school entitles you to pretend that we're 'best friends forever' or whatever the kids are calling it these days."

A frown grew on Kevin's face. "But we *are* friends."

"*You* think we're friends." Kevin opened his beak. "Every time I see you, you ask for something to eat. Why is that, Kevin? Is it because you haven't had a job since you set that In-And-Out on fire?"

"I didn't set it on fire—"

"Kevin, you shoved a frozen pizza in the fryer on your break and then threw a pot of water at the resulting fireball."

"No one got hurt."

"Oh, yes, thankfully no one got hurt." Jack poked Kevin's beak. He flinched. "Do you even think about the words that come out of your mouth? No, of course you don't, because why would you bother yourself with thinking things through?"

"T-that's not—"

"That's not what, Kevin? True?" Jack stood. "I want to hear you say it with a straight face. Make my day."

Kevin shook his head, eyes screwed shut. Jack leaned over the bird, the sound of the waves distant white noise.

"Tell me that you're a good toon that's considerate about others and isn't a stain on society."

Kevin sucked in a breath. He mumbled a couple of words.

"Tell me!" Kevin shrunk into himself.

"I'm a good toon," Kevin said.

"What?"

"I'm a good toon," Kevin said, louder. He hiccuped and rubbed at his eyes.

"I don't believe you."

"I am!"

Kevin pulled his hands away to glare up at Jack, eyes bloodshot. A crooked smile crept across Jack's face. He had forgotten how *liberating* it was to raise his voice. He had to keep a tight lid on it in work meetings, since those could actually affect his future.

"No," Jack said, feeling light enough to float away in the breeze. "Would a good toon set fire to a restaurant?"

"I already told you that—"

Jack slapped the bird's beak. "Don't give me excuses." Kevin's eyes grew wide and his pupils threatened to disappear in the sea of white that was his irises.

"Would a good toon be living on the street and mooching all his meals off his friends?"

Kevin's eyes darted around and he rubbed his hands together.

Jack leaned over Kevin, smile shrinking. "Would a good toon be exiled from toontown for being 'just a little bit too kooky' for the rest of them?"

Jack leaned closer to the side of Kevin's head, eyeing the pink tip peeking from the thong. "Would a good toon get off—"

Kevin threw his head back and let out a pathetic mewling, tears streaming from his eyes like a pair of fountains and falling to the sand to erode two tracks down towards the ocean. Jack flinched away, raising a hand to ward away the tears.

"I'm a *bad* toon!" he said through the sobbing. Jack blinked at the show. Normally it took a lot more to make the dumb bird crack. He sat down on his chair and it tilted in the sand.

"Great," he said, without feeling. "I'm glad that we could come to an agreement on that. You can fuck off now."

Kevin let out a fresh wailing and reached blindly for Jack, repeating the word "no" over and over again. Jack batted the feathery hands away.

"Don't—don't make me go away," Kevin said. He wavered ineffectually against Jack's longer arms, unable to push away the one holding him at bay. Kevin's tears slowed for a moment, and he sucked in an absolutely horrifying amount of snot. The tears started afresh after that, with the added bonus of his eyes being open this time and frantically searching Jack's face for any sign of mercy.

Jack kept his face straight. Maybe this would be the time Kevin finally understood he wasn't wanted anymore. The still-growing erection poking out of his thong said otherwise.

"Please, Jack," Kevin said, switching up to grasping at the man's forearm. "I know I've made mistakes in the past but I've changed, honest!"

"You haven't changed so much as a line," Jack said. A voice in the back of his head whispered what an easy thing it would be to shift his arm and wrap his hand around the bird's neck.

"I have!"

"You said the same thing the last time you fell into my lap. Then you ate everything in my house."

"It wasn't everything, it was just all of the old leftovers in the back of the refrigerator that you never threw away!"

"You ate the leftovers from the dinner I cooked that *night*. I hadn't even put them in the fridge yet." Jack sneered down at the bird. "I told you that I never wanted to see you again and yet here you are, trying to get another meal out of me."

Kevin snorted again, closing his eyes and letting his hands drop to his sides. His chest quivered against Jack's hand, and it felt so *warm*. He frowned. The last time that he had touched someone else was when he had thrown Kevin out the back door after the leftovers incident. Jack let his shoulders droop and pulled back his hand. Kevin leaned forwards with it, seemingly unwilling to stay upright on his own. Or, perhaps he didn't want to lose the touch of Jack's hand.

"Well?" Jack asked. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Kevin shook his head, the lower half of his beak quivering.

Jack scowled. How had he *ever* been friends with this bird? What had he seen in this immature, pea-brained masochist?

"I'm sorry," Kevin whispered, his tears slurring the words.

"You say you're sorry," Jack said, "and yet nothing ever changes."

Kevin shook his head again, hard enough to send several teardrops shooting off to land softly on the sand. "I know I'm a bad friend—"

"A bad friend?" An anger rose up from the depths of Jack's stomach, searing the inside of his chest and gripping his head in a blinding vice. "A bad *friend*?"

Kevin cracked open his eyes and stuttered out the beginning of some question.

"You're not my friend," Jack spat.

"But—"

Jack's hand found its way to Kevin's neck. The bird's eyes bulged out and his mouth shot open, tongue flopping over the side of his lower beak.

"I want you to listen to me *very* carefully," Jack said. Kevin gurgled, his Adam's apple spasming under Jack's hand. "You are nothing but an incompetent failure—an entitled man-child who never grew up and expects everyone around him to take care of all his needs. You have never held a job for more than eighteen months at a time, have never owned anything more expensive than an overpriced 'designer' hoodie that you stole from a laundromat, have never once apologized for any of the multiple times you've harassed me in public, *and* constantly beg me for food."

"It's not constantly," Kevin forced out.

Jack stood and picked Kevin up, then slammed the bird into the beach chair. Kevin gagged, arms flapping and eyes rolling in their sockets.

"I am sick of your shit," Jack said, voice cracking. "Do you hear me? I am sick of *you*." Kevin's eyes rolled up into his head and his gasping for breath grew more pronounced. "Why can't you get that simple little fact through your tiny brain? Do you think that you're *not* a worthless piece of trash with no future?"

Kevin let out a choked moan and bucked his hips. His erect cock slapped against his stomach with a meaty slap, flinging a bead of pre off the pointed tip.

A crooked smile twisted Jack's lips. "Oh," he said. "That's right." He leaned closer. "You *enjoy* this. How could I have forgotten? It's the only reason you keep inserting yourself into my life, after all. You're so broken and desperate for attention that you've associated me telling you to fuck off with pleasure."

Kevin sucked in a rattling breath, eyes bulging from his head.

Jack squeezed harder. "Isn't that right? The one thing you crave the most in life is to hear your one and only friend tell you that you're a hopeless fuckup, that you have not and will never amount to anything in your life."

Kevin's beak opened and shut noiselessly. Fat tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, running down the feathers of his cheeks and soaking Jack's hand. Only the tiniest slivers of Kevin's pupils were visible, but Jack knew that the bird was still conscious and hanging on to every word that he said. The enormous throbbing pink banana of a cock spurting pre told him all that he needed to know. It made Jack sick. 

"Well, here's a little something extra for you to enjoy." Jack pulled back a fist clenched with every fiber of his being, and punched Kevin in that stupid face of his.

Kevin's head bounced off the back of the beach chair, pupils seemingly popping into existence to vibrate like a plucked guitar string. He choked, chest heaving, eyes finding their way to Jack's. There was a desperate pleading in the depths of those green eyes and Jack's stomach turned. He forced himself to not look away, unsure if the desperation was for release—or for more. He couldn't let himself look away, couldn't let himself show weakness. This was his chance to show that he meant business, that he had moved on from this stupid bird and his stupid attitude that would never get him anywhere in life.

The first rope of semen splattered against Jack's shirt, gluing the fabric to his chest with a surprising warmth. Kevin's eyes rolled into the back of his head again and he bucked his hips, shooting a second burst that deflected off Jack's wrist. The smell of it hit him a moment later, a familiar musk with a hint of salt detectable even over the smell of the ocean.

A wave crashed in the background. The sun beat down on the back of Jack's neck. Then the breeze picked back up, turning the oppressive heat into something more manageable. Kevin squirmed in Jack's grasp, tongue lolling from his mouth, hips bucking.

But Jack was elsewhere. He released his grip and straightened, staring down at the still-ejaculating bird but not seeing. At that moment he was in the back of a Transit with sunburnt red paint, parked in the sand on the beach with the rear doors open to the ocean and the breeze. He lay on matted shag carpet, blotchy with stains, staring up at the bare metal roof of the van and listening to the waves in the distance. There was a warmth nestled up to his side, and the same smell of semen in the ocean air tickled the inside of his nose. He was utterly at peace—nothing to do, nothing for him to do, absolutely no responsibilities past, present, or future. There was only the sound of the waves and the comforting warmth of contentment in his chest.

He blinked, the thrusting bird in front of him having become a white and pink and black blob. He scowled and angrily rubbed his eyes clear in time to see the bird buck and shoot another load into the air. The off-white stream arced lazily in the air, hanging motionless at its apogee before crashing down to the sand in the direction of his house. Jack glanced between Kevin's face, flush with ecstasy, and the back of his house. All Jack could think about was the absurdity of the situation, and how his house looked like the kind of house that some c-suite psychopath in a suit would live in.

It didn't look like *his* house anymore, and he definitely didn't want to go back inside for his next meeting. He ripped himself away and sat down in the sand, facing the ocean. Kevin let out one last gurgle and fell still, the chair creaking under him. Jack watched the waves roll in, one after the other, to lap against the sand. How many times had he sat here on this beach and watched the ocean? *Truly* watched the ocean, saw its vast, endless undulations for something more than a pretty sight?

Jack watched the ocean, the semen growing cold against his chest, and remembered simpler times.

***

The sun had sunk in the sky to the point where Jack had to be careful where he was looking, even with his sunglasses. He could feel the beginnings of a sunburn on his arms and knew that he should head back inside, but he wasn't ready. Not yet.

Kevin snorted and jerked, the chair protesting at the sudden movement. He sat up and looked around in the corner of Jack's eye. Kevin froze, feathers standing on end.

Jack watched the waves come in, one after the other, an endless crashing that had never and would never stop.

"Jackie?" Kevin stammered, voice as soft as the waves.

"What is it?" Jack asked.

Kevin fidgeted with his hands, surreptitiously drawing his legs up to his chest. "You're still here?"

"Yeah."

Kevin looked around. "Does that—are you still mad at me? Do I need to be punished more?" His cock jumped and he shuddered.

He deflated when Jack shook his head.

"Oh," Kevin said. He turned to look at the ocean. The waves glittered in the sun all the way to the horizon.

"When was the last time that we sat and watched the ocean? Just sat around with nothing to do?"

"I, uh… a long time ago?"

"Where did those days go, Kevin?"

Jack turned to an incredulous look on Kevin's face, eyebrows hovering above the top of his head. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, then leaned forwards with a feathery hand cupping his lower beak and squinted at Jack.

"Who are you and what have you done with Jack?" Kevin asked.

Jack went back to staring out over the water. He shrugged. "I'm not sure where he went myself, to be honest."

Kevin leaned further and swiped the sunglasses from Jack's face. He turned to the bird, nonplussed. Kevin tilted his head first one way, then the other, further and further until he was upside-down and peering up Jack's nose. Reaching out, Kevin felt the side of Jack's face, then shifted up to cup his scalp.

Jack smiled patiently for a moment, then plucked his sunglasses from Kevin's grasp. It might have been late afternoon but the reflection of the sun off the sand around them was still painfully bright.

Kevin pulled away and sat hunched over on the edge of the chair, muttering to himself and staring at the sand behind Jack.

"So what's the diagnosis, doc?" Jack asked, slipping his sunglasses on. "You've got something to make my hair grow back, right?"

Kevin shivered, a visible roll of a shiver running down from the pink tips of his head-feathers to his stubby feet. His eyes flicked up to Jack's face and there was that desperation in them again, though this time it was less distressing.

"Never do that again," Kevin said.

"Do what again?"

Kevin pushed Jack's shoulder playfully. "Make a joke. You're terrible at it."

"It wasn't that bad. I've heard you say worse." Kevin frowned.

"Nothing as bad as that."

"You once repeated an entire scene from The Big Bang Theory ad verbum to me."

"Because it's funny!"

"The only thing funny about it is how trash your taste in entertainment is compared to the actual trash that you eat."

Kevin pouted, though the corners of his beak twitched as though he was fighting a smile. Jack waited for the smile to break free, a pleasant warmth in his chest. If it had been a long time since he had watched the ocean, it had been longer since he had felt content. He glanced at the ocean one last time.

"Come on," Jack said, standing and brushing sand from his sore legs. "Let's go eat dinner."

"Dinner?" Kevin asked, handling the word as if it was a grenade missing its pin.

"Yeah. I'm feeling like ordering out. Something trashy. It's been a long day and I want to end it laying on my couch with a stomach full of grease and feeling like shit."

Kevin wrung his hands.

Jack started back for his house. "Bring the chair with you," he called over his shoulder. "And leave it by the back door. You're going to track enough sand inside by yourself."

Jack made it halfway back before he heard the sound of Kevin flopping out of the chair and taking off across the sand, dragging it along behind him. Jack pulled open the door and stopped, turning around. He didn't want to go inside alone, and a part of him wanted to pretend that the two of them were sneaking into a vacant summer home of some asshole executive.

Kevin slowed to a stop at the bottom of the steps, apprehensively looking up at Jack and the open door. Kevin swallowed and adjusted his grip on the chair.

"Come on already," Jack said. "Get you fat ass in here so I can order too much pizza. I'm starving."

Kevin shifted from one foot to the other. "Are you sure about this?" he asked.

"Don't make me think any harder about it."

"I mean, what if I make you mad again?"

Jack raised an eyebrow.

Kevin shook his head, then stared down at the sand between his feet. He dug his stubby talons into the beach, a look of intense contemplation on his face.

"I know you think that I enjoy it—"

Jack scoffed. He didn't *think*, he *knew*. The dried cum on his shirt was all the evidence that he needed.

Kevin hunched his shoulders. "Okay, okay." He raised his head and met Jack's eye. "But I know *you* don't, and I don't like that. I'm trying, I really am, even if it doesn't seem like it to you with your beachfront property and business dinners every other week. I don't want to lose you, Jack. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me." He seemed to shrink after that, eyes dropping to Jack's feet and head-feathers wilting in the light of the setting sun.

Jack opened his mouth, then closed it. What was he supposed to say to that? *Should* he say anything to that?

"Who are you and what have you done—"

Kevin threw the chair against the concrete wall with a bang and marched up the steps, brandishing a feathery finger and a righteous anger burning in his green eyes. "I already told you to knock that off," he said, stopping on the top step and puffing out his chest. "It's an insult to comedy itself."

"Who's going to stop me? The god of comedy?"

"No, but some toon might try to drop a piano on you if you make jokes like that in Toontown."

Jack shook his head and used his foot to slide Kevin inside like a cardboard box. "Good thing we're not in Toontown. Now move your ass, I've got a couple pizzas and some breadsticks to order."

Kevin blinked and looked around, as if Jack had disappeared completely from sight. Kevin seemed to shrink the more he saw of the inside. He looked up at Jack, hands clasped and the beginnings of a pout tweaking the edges of his beak.

"What's the deal?" Jack asked. "It's all win-win for you here—either you believe me and you get a free meal, or you don't and you're in for a long night of debauchery."

Kevin glanced out at the beach, the sand a deep gold from the setting sun.

"Or it could be both," Jack said, shrugging. "There's really no way for you to tell, right?"

Kevin's face reddened and he squirmed in place. Jack stepped inside, leaving the door open. 

"You're free to leave," Jack said. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder at Kevin. "But it would be nice to talk to an old friend again. You would not believe the shit happening at this company."

A smile spread across Kevin's face at the word "friend," and he slowly lit up like the lights in a gymnasium. There was a fluttering in Jack's chest, and he smiled back. He had missed that goofy smile. The real one, untainted by pained ecstasy that he had seen one too many times recently.

"Now, what do you want on your pizza?"