I don't own Pushing Daisies.


The slow boil of jealousy isn't completely unfamiliar to him.

These causes of it, however, continue to mystify.

Taking into account that they're both nowhere near equipped for this type of confrontation—let alone experience—causes some speed bumps along the way. Speed bumps the size of Mount Everest and leave them both red and ashamed, terribly awkward and unwilling to overcome these sorts of anxieties.

Ned hides behind his pies, and Randy behind his dead animals (He tries to look past the taxidermy hobby, he does. The idea of being able to pet Digby after waiting so long is good, on a very creepy, very disturbing idea. It'll never pass. Not when Randy stinks of formaldehyde every hour of the day.).