Wyatt added the last detail to the wall in the living room. Now the ornate certificate with the enormous decorative capital letter introducing the brief text rested in the middle of a nest of photographs depicting Wyatt and Pug on various active vacations, always smiling, often with arms or hands locked together. He tapped his chin with the broad side of the hammerhead and adjusted the frame until the certificate matched its surroundings.
“That’ll be the straightest thing in the house,” Wyatt remarked.
From the kitchen, Pug bellowed, “Applesauce, my dear. Better not let the local fuzz catch you uttering such heresy.” A ripping sound announced the opening of yet another box. “That certificate isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on in this place, you know,” Pug added.
“Speak for yourself,” Wyatt told him as he scooped up the empty box at his feet. “It means everything to me.”
“I’m right there with you,” Pug said. “But we need to lay low until we’re old news.”
Wyatt tossed the hammer in the box and took one more look at his handiwork. “Why bother with all this if we’re just going to pretend we’re a couple good buddies rooming together while we chase babes in bars like all the other macho studs our age?”
Pug joined Wyatt in the living room. “Nice job,” Pug said. “Hey, it’s not so bad. I let myself submerge into the straight world for a while. It’s amazing how easily you can fly under the radar. It’s also not hard to say just the wrong thing and get yourself innocently turned down by every girl you meet. You’re just an ordinary pathetic loser and no one’s the wiser.”
“That’s just the thing,” Wyatt said. “I happen to think the world would be a better place if people were, in fact, wiser.”
Pug looped his arm around Wyatt’s neck and twisted him into a headlock. “Mercy!” Wyatt yelped. Pug loosened his grip and planted a kiss on Wyatt’s cheek.
“Anyone who gets a look at that wall will certainly get wise,” Pug declared.
“Hope so,” Wyatt said.
