Angry, Angry Arguers
“My l-love is a lie. All in all, my life is l-l-lacking in what you might like to call l-lust, or perhaps l-la liberté de la sexe. L-l-laugh if you lean towards the l-lighter side. My leaving is entirely m-my loss, which I shall l-lament the re-re-remainder of my long, lonely…”
“Stop. Stuff your lamentations, you stupid louse. What kind of stunt are you starting at, with your stuttering stopgap stratification of romantic strength? Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stack up the stats, as you say, state the sad facts of your interpersonal history. I stand by our passion. I stand by our relationship.”
Helen held her ground, head held high and casting a haughty glare. He had no hope for her to hear his heralding of hedonistic haplessness. How could he handle the haranguing at home another hour?
Fitfully and fearfully, Finn faltered, “F-forget fidelity! F-f-find some f-fellow to flog and f-flagellate. As for me, I flee. I forgo any good f-faith. And finally, my fine fiancée, f-f-f-…f-f-f. You know.”