The game is over. You win. Our relationship has lasted longer than that of anyone I've ever dated. This is odd seeing as I've attempted to kill you on several occasions. I've left you to starve. I've left without saying goodbye. I've forced you to swim in your own feces. What's more, you're constantly in an environment in which another creature, whose soul purpose in life outside of eating, sleeping, and licking her girl parts, is to eat you alive. And yet you remain.
So Ripley, after three long years, I congratulate you on making it this far. Darwin would be proud. But seriously, if you're still around for the fourth year, we're headed into the bathroom for the best water park ride ever invented.
