What the f*&^ (Harley)
She was standing, holding a gun, pointing it at something. Somebody was wrapped warmly around her body, showing her how to stand, how to squeeze the trigger, not pull it. Moments ago, she'd felt warm and cuddly toward that person. She'd wanted to spend the rest of her life with Harley.
But suddenly, that was all gone.
Karen went a little limp, gun in one hand and turned to Harley.
"I'm sorry honey, I must have been drunk on accident or something. I'm just not as into you as I thought I was."