A close an' intimate union.

Until recently I's been unda da impression dat it would be pertinent to da success a my ongoin' endeavors to find a partna in crime.

I's used to t'ink dat if I'm gonna to be taken down: d'are best be some unsuspectin' schlo'mo to take wit' me...

I aint goin' dis alone!

So- I soyched for dat poyson- left an' right- up an' down- backs an' fort. I's looked so hard that my aforementioned "endeavors" began lackin'. Success in dis woyld a mine is eva' loomin'- But I's aint found it on account a dat undyin' soych for a numba dos.

Well, you's prolly t'inkin' to yo'se'f- if you jest stop lookin'... that no good, dirty rottin', banana griftin', son-of-a bees knees will most likely find d'are way ta you- its da way a da woyld. D'are's no way ta choose who's gonna be willin' to take a bullet fors ya.

Trute be told- yous prolly correct in that assumption. IF I's was wantin' a partna in crime, still.

Ya see- as I watched myself becomin' a useless schlub an' all da opulence a dis woyld slippin' troo my finga's on account a said schlubbyness- I cames to da real-i-zation dat if I's gonna be numba uno- I's gotsta go it alone.

I aint neva' gettin' married.