“Oh, wait! I forgot something!” She started, smacking her forehead and hushing inside the house again. She came back a minute later holding something easily recognizable on her hands:

“What the hell are you going to do with that shovel!?” She looked at her hands, studying the object:

“Oh, you know, just the usual.” She shrugged. “Does the usual includes taking advantage of the fact that we are alone in the woods to kill me and then bury the corpse? Unfortunately, it does.” She stared at me like she was reading my mind:

“Don’t be silly, Paula. I’m not going to bury you!” I doubt that. “Aren’t we going to a place near a cliff? Wouldn’t it be easier to just drop your body in the ocean? If they ever found something, I could always claim it was suicide or an accident, right?”

Oh, well. I guess that does make a lot more sense; I had imprinted on Don Vito Corleone after all.

“C’mon, Paula, get in the car.” She said with a smile and I looked at the sky once before joining her:

“Dear God, I’m not sure whether or not you have a place in heaven for legendary beasts but, please, if I die today, make sure my room is close to Tolkien’s, will you, please? I really need to practice my Elvish.” I prayed.