Friends, Physics and Fallon

Chapter 43

Foamy shook her head, clearing her memories away. She lifted up her shirt to reveal the yittle tiny scar she had from the incident. Foamy ran her finger over it, tears welling up in her eyes as she thought about the significance of this tiny scar. Jimmy noticed the scar and a single tear ran down his face. Foamy put her shirt back down, walked over to Jimmy and squeezed his hand tightly. "You don't have to do this, Jimmy." Foamy whispered to him. "Yes I do, Foamy. I promised to repay you someday, remember? I love you, and I'll forever grateful that I met you and we fell in love. I enjoyed every second we spent together, and I appreciate everything you've done for me. Helping me when I'm stressed about work, or anything else. You were always there for me, now I need to be there for you. You're only 15, Foamy. You have your whole life ahead of you, and your future is bright. You have so much to live for. I have to do this." "No, Jimmy. You don't! You have a lot to live for, too! You can't just throw away everything you've worked so hard for all your life! You're the host of The Tonight Show! Who's going to take over the show?" "I want you to have the show, Foamy." "Jimmy, no. That is the stupidest thing I've heard all day! And I've heard some stupid things..." Foamy glanced over at Barack, who was still sobbing in the corner with Broberg. "But anyway, Jimmy, please don't do this. You wouldn't be repaying me, you would be making my life a constant struggle. I can't live without you, Jimmy. I love you, and losing you would be the death of me!" Jimmy just shook his head. "I love you too, Foamy, but I have to do this. I'm the one they want, so they can take me. Go ahead, shoot." Foamy sobbed. "JIMMY, NOOOOOOO!" DeQuan LaShawn still had his gun pointed at Jimmy, but he brushed tears away with his free hand. "You guys done?" he asked, his voice shaking. "Yes." "NO!" "Yes, we are done. I love you, Foamy, don't ever forget that! Now come on, shoot." Jimmy stood still, bracing himself for the impact of the bullet. DeQuan LaShawn composed himself, ready to pull the trigger.