Michael... I love you. I've loved you for nine years, I've just been too arrogant and scared to realize it, and... well, now I'm just scared. So, I realize this comes at a very inopportune time but I really have this gigantic favor to ask of you. Choose me. Marry me. Let me make you happy. Oh, that sounds like three favors, doesn't it?
I had the strangest dream. I dreamt that some psychopath was trying to break the two of you up. Luckily, I woke up and I see that the world is just as it should be. For my best friend has won the best woman. I didn't buy you a gift. But this is on loan until you two find your song...
I'm pond scum. Well, lower actually. I'm like the fungus that feeds on pond scum.
Lower. The pus that infects the mucus that cruds up the fungus that feeds on the pond scum. On the other hand, thank you for loving me that much, that way. It's pretty flattering.
Except it makes me fungus.