Love you, baby—but your boyfriend needs to die.So here's a solid three-star review of story that made me want to find the nicest little old lady in the Bronx, secure her to a chair, and slowly and methodically strip her of all human dignity until she lost the will to live and begged for me to end her suffering and give her the gift of sweet oblivion. At this point in my vengeful fantasy I will refuse to put away my chosen implement of torture—instead raising it higher so that it is fully illuminated by the interrogation lamp swinging ominously above us. I will stroke it lovingly, for effect, but also for shits and giggles.And then I will continue to chapter two.Jurgen Droolinonhim is so my cuppa that I have actually developed a profound antipathy for his boyfriend, Nik, who is too busy being insufficiently grateful for the wondrous gift of Delicious Aryan Gimmewurst.He is so unworthy, so clearly inferior to nearly any other candidate for the job of Numba 1 Lovvah—the only sensible Solution to this terrible oversight is quite Final.Nik's selection to the office of Jurgencockwarmerschmidt is a horrendous error. I hereby nominate myself for the position, being quite willing to lick the man's sweat, suckle his wobbly bits, and contort my skilled and enthusiastic orifices in enticing arrangements to best serve his needs.But first, Nik must die.Preferably by having to read a transcript of his extraordinarily perverse and wicked thinking as he prepares to pretend, again, like a fucking meathead, that he needs his Jurgen only a fraction as much as Jurgen needs him.Because, you know, it's absolutely vital that he be as willfully opaque about his real feelings as possible, preferably in such a manner as to inflict minor wounds upon my beloved Jurgen's sweet, sweet heart.Man—fuck that guy! He's such a pain in the ass.I'd totally treat Jurgen right. Even if his name still sounds like the noise you make when a man shoves his cock all the way down your throat without regard for your quite sudden and comprehensive inability to breathe.***So: Jurgen, rated a quintillion stars, obviously.Tenino's writing is great, as usual, and worth another couple hundred million stars.The character that used to be Nik has now ascended to a higher plane and taken on a physical form that more accurately articulates his true self: a fucktard mope-walla sk8ter attempting a gnarly jump but missing horribly, thus smashing his balls on a handy railing, while his skateboard goes spinning off into the road to be crushed to splinters, just like everything else Nik is permitted to touch for any length of time whatsoever.So, Nik: negative everything stars. Negative all the stars. I do apologize, but we are fresh out of stars. Are those stars in your pocket? I am afraid I will need to confiscate them. No more stars for you. No more stars for anyone. Ever.Nik single-handedly ruined a perfectly good story......except he doesn't, because out of nowhere Jurgen mumbles, dazedly, "I thought you wanted to leave me..."Whereupon all my inside parts suffer cascading squeeplosion trauma, which immediately causes this book's rating to roar all the way back out from the depths of the abyss of STFU to the glorious heights whence five stars hail, I cannot love you more, we should totally make out, etc....until Nik instantly kills the good feelz by opening his assuming, misinterpreting, categorically fuckwitted mouth to utter something appalling, which was kinda funny, but mostly NO, FUCK YOU AND DIE, HOOR, because you talk too much and love to pretend like you are the only person in the hemisphere who is miserable, because then that allows y......I am arguing with a fictional character.Fuck.This is what he does to me. I am having a heated disagreement with words.It's time to bring this POS review home so I can taxidermy the shit out of it and hang its head over my fireplace.Nik. Nikhil, Nikhil, Nikhil: again, about to sink the whole review into the rageface abyss—but, it turns out, the previous explosive ovarian crisis was so damned good and sweet and nicely written that the subsequent Nikki Iniquity Penalty only worked out to a single star, in the end.And that, colleagues, is how a 27-page story that took me six days to read and made me want to torture little old ladies with selected passages belonging to its heinous and antipathetic MC was still delightful enough to set out onto the intertoobz with my 3 stars trailing behind it like a parade of ducklings waddling cheerfully off into the sunset.Love you, Jurgen. Love you so hard.