Six friends were sitting at a cafe.
"She's looking at you," said Mr Jones matter-of-factly.
"How did it end up like this?It was only a kiss!" moaned Mr Brightside quietly.
"Look around you, all you see are sympathetic eyes," sneered Mrs Robinson sarcastically.
"So who you placing the blame on?" snapped Ms. Jackson accusingly.
Silence. No one really wanted to know the answer.
"It’s just the price I pay," sighed Mr Brightside resignedly.
"We'd like to help you learn to help yourself," offered Mrs Robinson helpfully.
"Fake it through the day with help from some Johnny Walker Red," adviced Miss Misery symphatetically.
"And I would gladly bet my life upon it," laughed Miss Murder drunkedly.
Another pause. Then a complete change of subject.
"She's perfect for you. Man, there's got to be somebody for me," quipped Mr Jones unabashedly.
"Ever searching for what we were promised, eh?" jested Miss Murder merrily.
"Jealousy turns saints into the seas," deadpanned Mr Brightside cryptically.
Upset with the change in subject, one of them attempts to steer the conversation back...
"She never got to hear my side of the story," complained Ms Jackson annoyingly.
But not everyone wanted to talk about it.
"It's a little secret, just the Robinsons' affair," snapped Mrs Robinson angrily.
And with that, the conversation ended. Until...
"I wish I was someone just a little more funky," whined Mr Jones pathetically.
But then, no one was listening anymore.