Joe put a shaking hand upon Davy's shoulder as he caught up with him, struggling for breath.
Davy turned, rage etched well on the features of his jilted face.
"Let me explain!"
"Don't," answered Davy. "It all makes sense to me now. Your delusions are tearing us apart. I think you need to see a therapist."
"C'mon, you oaf, hear me out!"
Davy sighed, turning around to face the man he loves, "All right. You've got my attention."
"It's not you, Davy. It's --"
Davy rolled his eyes, interrupting, "Don't give me that cliché load of crap! What next, you want to still be friends? Or maybe you're suddenly straight? Hmmph - you fit into those panties so well, too."
"No, Davy, it's not that," Joe reasoned. "Well, I don't think it's me either. It's this story. It's not right for me. I've been an awkward fit from the start. I think I'd be better off somewhere else."
"Whatever do you mean?" asked Davy, hoping that it was an analogy rather than another delusion.
"You see, I'd quite like to do something else with my existence. Y'know. Like, maybe I want to have an Egg Dilemma. Heck, I could become an Average Joseph. And, well, maybe I'd rather be Waking Up With Henry than with you, Davy. It's nothing personal."
Davy frowned, "Huh? Who's this Henry guy?"
"You see? This is exactly why I'm not a good fit here! You aren't aware that this is a typist's tale, whilst I am deeply disturbed by these crude narrations and ludicrous plot devices."
Davy's face began to turn red, and he growled, "Are you seeing someone else?"
"No, no, Davy. It's not like that, I swear!"
"Good," Davy said, taking Joe into his strong arms.
"Hey, hey," Joe whined, "let go of me!"
Davy did not comply, and seemed deaf as he ran his tongue along the other man's neck.
"Woah, slow down!" Joe winced. "I'm not done talking here. Listen to me, will ya? Hey, don't grab me there - ouch! Davy, keep it clean! This story isn't rated MATURE."
Davy stopped, finally, and let go of Joe, "That's it. I'm taking you to my therapist. Now!"