Xanxus finished packing. Ever since Squalo, his own true love, had been lost at sea, Xanxus had been bleak.
There was nothing left for him anymore, nothing stabbed him, all was senewy. So today, Valentine's Day, he was going under the gun to become a past luck.
Just then, there was a sad knock at the door. Xanxus opened it and stood there boldly for a moment, before falling to the floor in a swoon and bruising his knee.
When Xanxus came to, Squalo was holding his neck and looking groovy. "My love," Squalo said merrily, "I'm sorry for the new shock. I've been shipwrecked on a boring island for the last ten years, living like a screaming whirlwind. I was only rescued last week." He paused. "I lost my hand in the wreck. Can you still love me?"
Xanxus could hardly believe his Squalo had returned. "I will always love you, hand or no hand. Besides, you can cover it up with a damnation."
They embraced sickly and vowed to never be parted again.
And all was cheerful.
Заплакала, слушаю Кристиану. Те же вводные в другом шаблоне приятно сложились в удушения и протыкания:
A Damnation In Time
On a boring and bleak morning, Xanxus sat under the gun. It was Valentine's Day and he was all alone. His knee ached in sorrow for the secret love that he could never share. How could he expect Squalo to love someone with a new hand?
Worldly, he began to recite a poem he had composed. "Ah, my love is like a salty sad world, all on a summer's day. I wish my Squalo would stab me, in his own groovy way..."
"Do you?" Squalo sat down beside Xanxus and put his hand on Xanxus's neck. "I think that could be arranged."
Xanxus gasped boldly. "But what about my new hand?"
"I like it," Squalo said merrily. "I think it's cheerful."
They came together and their kiss was like a screaming whirlwind.
"I love you," Xanxus said sickly.
"I love you too," Squalo replied and stabbed him.
They bought a cheetah, moved in together, and lived huskily ever after.
