Gavin and Chris discovered my old professor's grandson and the three tore it up behind the Leper Table, where we were banished with our spawn. They kept it on schedule this year, and the boys linked arms and sang "Jingle Bells" while the crowd roared along to "Auld Lang Syne".
Mike approached the table afterward, and people parted as though avoiding an impending brawl.
"They all wanted to know if we're fighting," he said, looking back at his table.
"Yeah, I was asked a couple times if it was a 'nasty' divorce."
"I told them, nah, we get along fine."
"Yeah. We get along great, it's just the times I randomly punch you in the face during conversation that might give things away."
"Like how just now your finger clipped my nose. I felt that."
"Sorry, missed.”
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