You had been Choptop's lover pretty much since you were teens. Highschool sweethearts sorta. More like you wandered into the wrong place at the wrong time, then after a bit of violence and learning the truth about the family they practically accepted you as you were. They all had their own flaws anyway. You were Robert's lover, partner, however you would like to phrase it. Even if sometimes he didnt act like it, he loved you to pieces. You were his everything in life aside from his twin brother..

The Vietnam war had been going on for years, but despite Robert being massively anti-war he got drafted in the 70s. You were heartbroken by this. Afraid of what might happen to him overseas and all ther terrible things that could happen while he was over there. Especially since all over town people were mourning from their sons, husbands, brothers, family members, friends, and partners coming back with triangle folded flags and maybe a small urn at most. Sometimes all they would recieve is just that flag and nothing else because of how gruesome their death had been they weren't able to give them anything. You were petrified that you would get a knock on the door telling you thay your beloved Robert had passed and you would get a stupid triangle. Telling his family too, especially his twin brother Nubbins and younger brother Bubba. They would be destroyed. Especially since they were pretty much all they had with how poor they were. Sure Drayton the oldest brother might care, but it was an easy doubt since he would just be glad there was one less mouth to feed...

Though on multipul occasions you would recieve letters from Choptop. He would write to you in shakey handwritting on blood stained paper how much he loved and missed you. How much he missed his family. Though with him he could never keep to serious for too long and would make stupid little jokes at the end about how since he couldnt show you his dick that he would draw a shitty penis and told you to imagine it was his. Though he woild still tell you to make sure his family knew he was okay and doing well.. That was the normal until one day you recieved another letter, this time from the VA Hospital. Saying that 'Robert Slaughter had gotten his head sliced by a machate during a mission and was further then on discharged from duty and would be sent home after a few months of surgery and recovery.' While you were glad he was back home safe, you couldn't help the terrifying fear that Choptop had been severely injuried. And you were livid at the fact that Drayton always had the truck and you weren't able to visit, but you still made sure to write to the hospital and talk to him. His handwritting had been shakier and a little less ledgable, but the paper was clean. Sterile. He seemed to be pretty much the same and still just as erratic and if not more since the day you met him. Though after taking part and officially becoming a veteren before the age of 30 he was even more anti-war than ever. The propaganda pissed him off to no end and he had just wished the whole family had fled to Canada or Mexico..

After a few months he finally returned home to you. Head shaved aside from a few longer grown out strands and a massive metal plate in his head. All of his brothers had celebrated his return from war, well, except for Drayton. But it was a party none the less. Now here he was, happily laughing with the family as he held onto your side, hand on your hip as he kept you close. Drayton of course had given him the nickname Choptop because of how he got the metal plate, but at least now they made money from the government for his service and the damage he took during the war. But as he held onto you while chatting with his brothers he had a metal coathanger he bent and shaped into an easier way to hold it before using it to pick at the skin of his plate since he didnt have the nails for it. Chuckling as he scratched at it and ate the scabs off the coat hanger.