Famous Paul? he thought, stepping forward to shake his hand.  “Good to meet you, Dave,” he said.  “And yeah, you do indeed have a firecracker on your hands.  Better you than me, dude.”  He tried to sound encouraging, probably failing along the way.<br/><br/>Charlette’s expressions, on the other hand, were concerning to say the least.  She did not look happy in any way at his presence.  Tossing Dave’s floral offering on the couch (not even a vase with water?!) was that straw that had something to do with the camel’s back.<br/><br/>Paul frowned, easing himself onto his recliner.  As far as he was concerned, this was between the two of them.  If not for Charlette’s pained expression, however, he’d be in his bedroom, on his bed, and . . . whatever.<br/><br/>Probably scrolling through those girlie pictures from earlier today, Old Man.  A sigh, and that was enough of a reply.<br/><br/>Yelling and shouting were clearly heard from Charlette’s room.  Paul stood, in case things really got outta hand.  With Dave’s build being on the slight and weedy side, Paul figured he could take him, if it ever came to blows.  What he didn’t know, however, was whether Dave was packing any weapons.<br/><br/>Current events seemingly on the lowdown (if blessed silence from her bedroom could be counted as a good sign), Dave suddenly and forcefully burst from her room, slamming the door in his wake.  Pushing past him, Dave’s destination was the front door.  And he slammed that, too!<br/><br/>Free shot at the two bit whore?  Have fun with the bitch?  These were words coming from an actual boyfriend?  Paul felt even worse for her.  From where he stood, he could see her door remained closed.  Best leave her alone, then.  He could always fire up the Xbox One and jam on some<i>Gears of War.  </i>That Lancer with the attached chainsaw always proved to be instant therapy.  A Locust reduced to bits and pieces was a good Locust, after all.<br/><br/>You need to go in there, Old Man.  No, I don’t, Paul calmly replied.<br/><br/>Yeah, you do.  She needs comforting.  And you’re it, Old Man.  And who knows?  You may score a piece.<br/><br/>Do you ever stop? Paul inquired.<br/><br/>Nah. . . .