Recently, and by recently I mean today, you’ve developed a crush. The unassuming weird girl is now the apple of your eye, the way her perfectly average black curls bounce make your heart soar. Today you managed to get her attention and with all your vigor and zeal you told her “I like you.” And in response she said.

“No, that’s the primordial magic parasite in your spine telling you to be close to me so it can feed off my magical core. You barely tolerate me remember? You think I’m a “weasel faced coward with a martyr complex.””