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Feel the Love

You walk to Sammie's Burrito Stand and, as usual, there's a line out the door (which is astounding - Sammie's burritos are nothing to write home about, unless, of course, you're sending a death threat). As the queue slowly shuffles forward, you traverse the same old tired internal debate: pinto, black, or refried (oh my!)?

Addled by your day's adventures, you just can't make up your mind. As your turn at the counter draws closer, you start to panic. But then: brainstorm! Why not a bean ménage à trois? Pleased with your ability to compromise and "think outside the box," you go to place your order. But before you can startle Sammie with your bean theories, the person behind you belts out: "I'll have a tall veggie - spicy, with pinto, black, and refried beans!" Surprised, and a tad miffed to have your novel bean approach appropriated, you turn to give the cutter an ass-chewing. And suddenly, everything - the burrito shop, the line of lunch drones, Sammie - melts away.

Standing before you is the closest thing to perfection you've ever encountered on this big, blue marble. Immobilized by this vision, you can do nothing but salivate. The seconds tick by. Don't just stand there! Say something! Quick, before this divine creature walks out the door!

So you choke out the first thing that pops into your mind: "What was the name of that show where Ted Knight talked to a cow puppet?"

"Um, Too Close for Comfort?"

This is obviously The One. Now or never. You swallow a lump of nerves and manage to say,"M-my name's [YOUR NAME]." And you hold out your fleshy mousehand.

Without hesitation, Your Perfect Mate reaches out to you.

You steel yourself for the usual cacophony of thought and pervy fantasy. But ... nothing happens. You look down to see what's what and suddenly your life makes sense.

This isn't a normal hand you're reaching for. It's flesh and blood, yes, but the five digits have fused and elongated, creating a flat, rectangular surface about 5 inches wide, 8 inches long, and a quarter-inch thick. Almost exactly like a mousepad.

You fall into each other's arms, and the fireworks explode.