Once upon a time there was a man. This man had a love. A love for cheese. It was a new love (say…two months?). But, it was profound. He dreamt about cheese, he swam in cheese, he dressed in cheese…it was his and he was cheese’s.

But, sadly, cheese did not return his love. How could it? It was cheese. Cheese made him vomit and poo. Not the lovely poo of ordinary people. No, this was a horrid poo. But, did this man decide that cheese could no longer be his love? No, he just ate it all the  more. He decided that if he showed the cheese that no matter that it gave him horrid poo, he would still love it…that all would be well.

But, as in most stories of unwanted love…this story cannot end well.

The cheese told the man (through poo of course) that the man must leave it alone. No more swimming in cheese, eating cheese, dressing in cheese. The love for cheese must end. Or the cheese was going to cause such horrid poo that the man would wish to end his life.

The man was devastated. How could he live without cheese?? He sought the advice of those outside of the cheese world. What would they do? What would they have him do?
He was certain that if he did not have cheese…he would die. He was certain that his very being was now made up with cheese. To be seperated would bring certain death.

What will the man do? What should he do?

(the man is sibling #6B. Of course it’s not cheese. It’s a girl. Doh. Do you really need to be told that? And  you can figure out the gist of the story. Or not. Whatever)