All kidding aside…” I focus back on Pyke, genuine sincerity in my tone. “Thank you…for everything. For dragging my ‘clueless ass’ through the ocean, and over hill and vale, when you knew it was futile and stupid—but that I’d still try to do it, with or without your help. Thanks for tracking me down when I was alone and helpless; and for giving me a voice when I thought all hope was lost—” “Ugh, for crying out loud…Enough already,” Pyke squirms, a nauseated grimace twisting his hairy face. “Now you’re going way overboard with the gratitude…That kind of gushy crap is meant to be dished out in small doses,” he gripes. “Please make it stop…before I have to snap my own neck, just to end the suffering.” He backs away into the crowd, giving Tristan’s shoulder one more slap with a sly wink. “Hurry up, Man, and do something. Kiss her, muzzle her…shove a sock in her mouth—