I got this friend named Henry. Calls himself H-Dot. No idea why. Henry is small, dried dead bird shrunken tiny small. 110lbs without his hair cut. But this motherfucker eats more ice cream than my whole fat family put together. Every time he leaves the house, he makes you stop so he can buy 3 or 4 M&M ice cream cookie sandwiches. The thing is, though, Henry's got bad teeth. Rotten-ass bad. So when he bites down into them, he'll scream and cry and shake his head and his knobby little knees will even start to buckle. And you know I'd like to help him. I really would. But I'm scared to speak out against a love that strong.