Salvation in Seventeen Syllables

"Woe is me!" Remus
wailed to himself, his hundredth
day of solitude.

"Sirius is gone,
and now I have nothing left
to live for. Poor me!"

He reached for his box
of tissues, only to find
it empty again.

"What shall I do?" he
moaned to himself. "I can't bear
to talk to people,

so I can't very
well go and ask somebody
to get me some more!"

This revelation
only made him cry harder.
"Plus I'm a werewolf,

so nobody has
ever liked me but Siri!
O, my poor Siri!"

And he cried some more,
using the torn sleeve of his
shirt to dry his eyes.

When the shirt was soaked
through, he looked at it and cried
again. "It's all wet!"

he wailed. "I should just
kill myself and be done with
it! No one would care!"

"I would care, Remy,"
came a voice from behind him.
Remus stopped crying.

"What?" he said softly.
"Can this be? No one can call
me that except for--"

He whirled around. There
stood Siri, without a shirt.
His huge muscles gleamed.

"Is it really you?"
said Remus, tears glistening
in his eyes anew.

"Sure is," said Siri
with a roguish, mischievous,
loving, seductive,

gorgeous, amorous,
playful, uber-naughty, hot,
impish (yet manly)

wink. "I came back just
for you," he said. "Er, sorry
I took so damn long."

"But what happened?" breathed
Remus, his eyes wide with love,
longing, shock, and awe.

"Um," said Sirius.
"Not sure, really. But who cares?
Let's shag like bunnies!"

"Really," said Remus,
"what happened? We all thought you'd
died! That's why I'm here."

"Have you really been
alone in this room, waiting
for me all this time?"

"Not waiting, really,"
Remus pointed out. "You don't
wait for someone dead."

"Oh," said Sirius.
"Then why did you lock yourself
in here all alone?"

"I've been crying for
the past hundred days," replied
Remus. "Since you died."

"Didn't die," Siri
corrected. "Only mostly
dead. Wasn't all dead."

"Ah," said Remus, as
if this witty remark could
explain everything.

But he started to
cry again anyway. "O
my Siri!" he wailed.

"Wow," said Sirius,
as Remus fell to his knees
before him. "What gives?

This is only a
shadow of the Remus I
knew. Come here, Remy.

I'll kiss it and make
it all better." Remus fell
into his sturdy,

kind, affectionate,
shiny, tough, caring, brawny,
strapping, powerful,

muscular, gleaming,
glistening, strong, familiar,
tender (yet manly)

arms with a sob of
purest adoration and
most erotic love.

"Oh Siri," he sighed.
"I'm glad that you're back, and that
you forgot your shirt."

"I must have lost it,"
said Sirius. Remus sighed.
"That's too bad," he said.

"Yes," said Sirius
with a wily grin. "But it's
convenient, ain't it?"

"Yes!" cried Remus as
he began to cry again.
"Let's make love, Siri!"

"Oh Remy, you know
I love you to death, but can't
you just call it sex?"

"Right," said Remus. "Oh,
I'm so happy, I could cry!"
And he cried some more.