“Identify yourself or die,” said I, striking an intimidating pose.
“I am Cleveland Normandy and I am here to put an end to your days of steeling young women.”
“-‘s hearts,” said I.
“-‘s hearts. You are going to put an end to my days of steeling young women’s hearts. That’s what you meant to say.”
“No it isn’t,” said he. “I am here to put an end to your days of steeling young women’s bodies.”
“I’ve never… almost never stolen a body in my entire life. Seven, eight times at the most. And why would you care anyway?”
“I care because I am Cleveland Normandy, and I am Megara Capillarie’s true love.”
“No you aren’t,” said Megara, having successfully refilled her lungs with air and climbed back to her feet. She tossed back her hair and struck a pose. “You are my father’s one true love.”
“What?” Cleveland and I both said at the same time.
“He is the one my father has betrothed me to, but I don’t love him, don’t want him, can’t stand him, and don’t want to look at him.”
“She sounds pretty emphatic,” said I.
“I don’t know what that means,” said he.
“It means that she has strongly expressed her desire with great emphasis or…”
“I don’t care what it means.” He jumped to within sword-reach of me. “You are standing in the way of true love.”
“I don’t think we have the same definition of ‘love’, or of ‘true’, and probably not of ‘way’,” said I. “I guess we’re okay with ‘standing’. I guess it all really hinges on what your definition of ‘is’ is.”