Barnaby Buttercup, a renowned – albeit self-proclaimed – love expert, was having a terrible Tuesday. His pet hamster, Cupid (ironic, he knew), had escaped, his meticulously crafted “Love is a Battlefield” themed Valentine’s Day cupcakes had been devoured by the neighborhood squirrels, and his girlfriend, Penelope, had just announced their relationship was “on a temporary hiatus.”
“A hiatus?” Barnaby sputtered, clutching a half-eaten cupcake wrapper. “Penelope, darling, what does that even mean? Are we…broken up?”
Penelope, perched precariously on a stack of his romance novels (mostly self-help guides), sighed dramatically. “Barnaby, dear, you forgot our anniversary. Again. And this time, you blamed it on a rogue pigeon stealing your ‘Declaration of Undying Love’ scroll.”
Barnaby winced. He’d accidentally set the pigeon’s tail on fire with a candle meant for a romantic ambiance. “But the pigeon was clearly a symbol of…unforeseen circumstances! A feathered harbinger of…bad luck!”
“A fiery, feathery harbinger of forgetfulness, you mean,” Penelope corrected, rolling her eyes. “Look, I need some space. I’m going to the spa. For a week.”
Barnaby watched her go, defeated. He slumped onto the sofa, surrounded by the wreckage of his romantic endeavors. Just then, Cupid, his escaped hamster, scurried out from under a pile of self-help books, clutching a tiny, rolled-up scroll in his paws. Barnaby snatched it, unfurled it, and read aloud: “Barnaby, I love you. Don’t forget to feed me. P.S. I hid your anniversary card in the hamster wheel – your clumsy attempts at origami were really something.”
Barnaby stared at the scroll, then at Cupid. He burst out laughing. “Love is dead, alright,” he chuckled. “But it’s clearly got a healthy sense of sarcastic humour.”
