‘No,’ she chided, ‘the last time you made me that much shit, I couldn’t finish it all, remember?’ She then sighed, ‘I felt bad… I mean, ...ou cook really good.’ ‘Really?’ Something struck her as cute, it was like a gangly five year old had replaced the thirty-something pot-bellied man who stood before her now. She almost wanted to hug him. ‘Really,’ she assured him. ‘Two eggs, two strips of bacon, and two pieces of toast.’ Michael repeated, as he reached into his clunky old refrigerator. He. "I left his room, and walked downstairs to get myself a glass of milk. I was drinking it out of the carton when I noticed a tall can of Schlitz beer in the door of the refrigerator. It was probably left over from a party or something. I grabbed it and went back up to Walter's bedroom. I turned his light back on and went over to his bed and handed him the beer."Hide the can and I'll take it out to the trash tomorrow. Goodnight, Walter." He already had it opened and was sitting up in bed drinking. More

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