"I'm so goddamn sorry that you couldn't even talk to me about this like a normal fucking human, Stanley! I'm so fucking sorry!" Kyle shouted across the room, tears swelling up in his eyes. It wasn't just about Sparky having a boyfriend or whatever anymore; no, it was much worse. Things had escalated farther than they ever should've, and every emotion Kyle had ever had towards the noirette across the room from him was spilling out heavily as if Stan had just opened a floodgate. "And you never even talk to me anymore! It's like I don't fucking matter to you, because you wanna keep sliding your filthy-ass tongue down her throat, huh? Because my fucking best for our dog wasn't good enough, apparently. So why don't you go back to her, huh? Just give her all the credit!"
He wanted the shouting to stop, but no matter how much he tried to clog his throat, words spilled out in choked-up sobbing and hate-fueled shouting. But he couldn't stop shouting. It was like a gun fight, except they both were just firing their guns in the air as to scare each other off. They didn't mean a word of what they were saying. Well, at least, Kyle didn't. But maybe Stan had meant everything he said. Maybe he truly believed it all.