“It’s always been you,” she breathed, her chest heaving like a freshman at college who had too many beers to drink at her first frat party.

As he reluctantly bathed in the shower of oncoming gunfire, he wondered how the bullets in his chest could be so hot even while his body was becoming increasingly colder.

“You and I will never be together.” Her eyes flashed like an exhibitionist in an oversized raincoat.

“I hate the rain,” she sighed. “Sometimes I see me dead in it. As well as tax audited.”

“Yes, that was your father,” the white whale responded, nonplussed. “He vanished under the waves with my Dad and they were never seen again.  I tracked you down using genealogical records.  You, Abu, are Ahab’s last living descendant--and frankly, I hope you’ve been keeping your harpoon sharpened, because I am plenty pissed.”