I Long For Death: Beyond Garfield.
The sun set over the green fields of the Illinois town of Rockford, and Garfield looked over his Garfields with a melancholic expression. A deep feeling of regret swelled within his Garfield, and he could only look back on his better days of Garfielding with Garfield, now long past. His solemn reflection was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of a familiar Garfield. Garfield looked to this former friend. Garfield not stand the sight of this dastardly Garfield, who had used Garfields Garfield for his own Garfieldy purposes. There was no respite for Garfield. Not here. Garfield's eyes surrendered to his inner pain, and tears streaked down his masculine face. Garfield let out the years of fear, pain, and insecurity that Garfield had put him through.
"Garfield, it would seem that you are ready to assume your r-"
Shock. All that Garfield could feel at the interruption was pure unadulterated shock. Garfield had never had it in him to defy Garfield in such a manner, but now he found Garfield fighting back with an unknown passion. The feelings fostered by years of abuse filled Garfield with a resolve he had never known, and he stood his ground. Garfield was taken aback y this development, as he had planned on resuming his prior engagements with lover, Garfield.
"I will NEVER allow another to go through the hell that is a relationship with you!"
"N-NANI?!"
With tears flying off into the wind, Garfield prepared his Garfielding Garfield of Garfield's Garfield, and flew at Garfield. With a mighty crash his Garfield technique collided with Garfield, whose arms had adopted a cross-guard stance. The attack was great, but Garfield withstood the impact. The Garfield exploded with a burst of Garfield, and swirls of Garfield streaked across the air. The sunlight caught these wisps of Garfield, coloring them in crimson and golden hues. Garfield flew backwards, grass staining his back, and he stood ready to deliver his own counter attack. Grasping his wrist, he focused his Garfield into his fist. Now enveloped in a wreath of black Garfield, Garfield sprung at his foe. His Garfield coated fist collided with the pure Garfield of Garfield's soul. From the clash a great aura of Garfield spread to coat the land. The two lovers turned floated motionless in the Garfield space, and they were presented with a sight neither had seen in a long time. Their first meeting in that quiet mountain town all those years ago. They were younger then, and more open to their feelings. They their first time making Garfield on the shores of that cold lake, warmed only by their passion. What had changed to twist their once pure love? They saw their first true embrace on that cold and sandy shore, as the water touching the land began to frost over. They had not minded the cold, as their love burned hotter than any sun.
How strange that even the purest of love could find itself broken by the patient weathering of time.
When this vision passes Garfield found himself staring at the motionless form of Garfield.
He walked along his lonesome path as the tears of a broken man streaked down his face.