“Yo solo gana de amor,” Vincent sighed, collapsing quite violently upon an inviting couch. “Que es el problema con este?” He continued thinking aloud as if there were someone listening. Fidgeting and settling himself amidst several waves of pillows, a thoroughly saddened, yet still dignified, Spaniard (who we’ll fondly call “Vince”) refused to cry. “Siempre esta respectable,” Father constantly said, never really caring, “llorando significa estando flojo en emocion.” Nothing could cheer up our gloomy Spanish friend now, except toast; but sadly, there would be none for Vinny this day, since one adored toaster had broken, just like his heart.
