Nothing stays the same

Chapter six

"I think it went well." Ling Sung Jiao remarked, "Perhaps you've made progress on being less standoffish."
How posting has determined already equal and opposite settings at the same time, a paradox would make it simple and wonderful at this very moment and in time...pity, where's good wine when you need it, Coffee will have to do...?
"How so? I look like I secretly questioned her very nature of mortality and made her confused and possible shite like the dickens did when someone kicked you in your balls, on a cold, Tuesday morning in January, and it's snowing as well, with thick black ice laid upon the ground and sidewalks as well." Zheng Peng replied, "Drinking too much coffee is making yourself brain-dead than usual."
Here we go, another time when the remark slipped but he pushed it off as they did to this poor bloke who was loyal to the army and wouldn't surrender to the dictatorship under way—deader than a door knob, could've even told that was once a body there.
"Oh, I don't think, so my dear fellow." Ling Sung Jiao explained, "It's all part of your charm, in any case, it wouldn't like it seems I'm going to date anyone time, what about yourself?"
Thinking after the kidnapping his brain would've become sharper and more witted, but instead becoming fillers like an old knife that couldn't be fixed after three hundred years of Steiger's usually without proper care and remarked as well.
"I don't intend on dating." Zheng Peng remarked, "Besides, whoever said I was interested in women."
Reminding the bumbling fool, for his memories are there but not connecting well, like trying to fix a radio before the rather famous showing is placed up the sheep's ass, bullocks to that mate.
"Oh, then...you like men?" Ling Sung Jiao inquired, "Are you doing to start bringing them back to the apartment, are you? Will I have to be careful when I barge in—"
"Cheesecake." Zheng Peng interjected.
Always works, sulfide isn't plump with his love of the blaster thing, Cheesecake, one like it but having it three times a week, which surprises his organs haven't been clogged servilely yet.
"Peng Peng, why do you and Lucy Belle hate each other, anyways?" Ling Sung Jiao inquired, "Did she wrong you in some sort of fashion?"
Suppose a straight and honest answer would put down his true suspicious nature under his plump checkered eyes, which contain two different colors, one is red and the other is purple.
"She cock blocked me." Zheng Peng remarked, "I intended on taking your first kiss, she stole that and almost stole your lovely flower body before getting down and preferably underneath."
"Oh, Peng Peng. That's why you've been mad at her for all this time? To be fair, I didn't kiss her, I simply allowed her to kiss the door." Ling Sung Jiao chuckled, "I would've never kissed her, she stole my delightfully made cheesecake made by you—you spent three hours making it, of course, I wasn't going to kiss her, she smells like bad sex, to begin with."
In the very rare and blatant moments, one could imagine—that this whole conversation should've never been brought up, but never less proud that the bumbling break finally happened, or properly spoken about something that normally is out of context with their whole internal situation itself.