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called off the duel not because i’m a coward who’s afraid to look death in the eye but because i spent hours on choosing my outfit and styling my hair and polishing my blade until it glittered in the sunlight, i even wore PERFUME for this because i wanted to make sure i looked and felt my best, and what does the guy who challenged me to a duel in the first place do? shows up LATE, wearing what i’m pretty sure were his work clothes, shirt untucked and collar unbuttoned and askew, his complete lack of effort or respect for the art of duelling evident in everything about him, and carrying this chipped and scratched old blade that looks like he didn’t even bother to wipe the dust off after digging it out from behind the couch where it’s spent the last decade. i’m sorry. i just couldn’t stand it. i’m taking him back to my place to show him how a REAL gentleman prepares himself for a duel.
[sheepishly, avoiding everyone’s eyes and tugging at my collar nervously, visibly sweating a little bit] so. um. something very lgbt happened last night.
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