"Death before dishonor." I always used to wonder, Hey, exactly how much dishonor are we talking about here? ‘Cause I could handle quite a lot. I would, for instance, fellate a Smurf before I picked death. I’d cook him a little Smurf omelet as I was doing it, you know, I’d be perfectly happy doing that. Seasoning it with thyme, you know, listening to his happy satisfied Smurf lip smacks. But every man thinks about Smurfs. They don’t say it, but they do. That’s why I’m here—to be honest. Just once, you know, what would it be like? Nobody needs to know, you go away for the weekend. Just once, to have the blue salty bulb lolling on your tongue… if I don’t say it, nobody else will."