The time has come. Pens down. Partners up.
For my better-half must be woken early this morning to be bathed in the finest oils and perfumes from the far east. She will be serenaded throughout the day, adorned with jewels and rubies and treated to the finest candies from Europe. At night we will walk along the beach and watch the sunset as dusk turns to night and the heavens shall be our opera. And I will stop the moon and the stars for her. Yes, I will cease the wondrous motions of the cosmos for my better-half, unleashing unknown destruction upon alien galaxies where the sudden halt in momentum will surely cause their suns to implode and their moons to crash into their planets as sentient beings scream in absolute terror at such needless death and destruction. And we will laugh, my better-half and I. We will laugh as peaceful utopian societies across the galaxy are shattered into oblivion; their tenants smothered in vicious tidal waves and molten rock that shall spew forth from the belly of their worlds like hot jelly. How delightful their screams! Surely any creature with even the slightest amount of nerve tissue would rather die quickly than be burned alive, but such is the way of National Writer’s Better-Half Day. Sometimes, star systems must be destroyed because I refuse to learn a lucrative trade.
Have fun. I’m off to practice the song I wrote for she who puts up with so much crap. I’ll see you all sometime next week.