The fog rolls in. Almost blind he says, Let me board your ship. And she knows a come on when she hears one, and she says, My ship’s too big.

He witnesses the birth and feels an astonishing outpouring of love, and the mother says, It’s not yours, and he throws up all over the baby.

They knew it was bad. The old guy said, That’s bad. The precocious kid said, Cool. And the sexy chick said, You’re bad. That made him happy.

He woke up on the floor, the memory of the punch that put him there in his jaw. The enraged ex. The small dog. The joke that started it all.

He remembered how the girls taunted him, the evil in their mockery. The way they teased with their fingers. Until he realized he enjoyed it.

Then the elevator came to a halt and they eventually fell in love, and then they were rescued and escaped the elevator and fell out of love.