Two days later, Dukey Pookie was tending to Bruce and Piranha, and going about his daily routine in the cornfield, putting field corn into bins.<br/><br/>He wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, clearing some damp hair from his eyes. He stood up, stretched and put a hand to the small of his back. It hadn't even been a week, and he was starting to second-guess himself. He'd already hurt his best friend, inadvertently. He'd made a bad first impression on Mr. Klutz, and on Clara, or so he thought. Knocking her up wasn't the problem. He'd fallen in love with her at first sight. But he had always believed that trouble came in threes, and now she was expecting triplets.<br/><br/>He was already tired of coming back at the end of the day, smelling of manure and drenched in sweat, and he didn't know what to do. He thought of his job at Cutty's. It was never like this. He didn't know if he was cut out for this kind of thing.<br/><br/>"What am I gonna do?" he idly asked himself. He stood up tall as he could, looked out over the entire farm and thought it looked bigger than he remembered.<em>Just the stress getting to me,</em>he thought. He went back to the barn, grabbed a black wax pen, and wrote on the wax board<em>Clara - I'm sorry. I love you, but I can't take it right now. I will be back soon, unless you find me first - Dukey</em>He sighed and walked purposefully to his car, and drove away, with a tear in his eye.