A/N: Here's the new chapter, as promised. Enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own A Nightmare on Elm Street or any of its characters.

WARNING: CERTAIN CHAPTERS OF THE FOLLOWING STORY WILL CONTAIN GRAPHIC SEXUAL CONTENT, GRAPHIC VIOLENCE, AND ADULT LANGUAGE. TO AVOID SPOILERS, THERE WILL NOT BE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS FOR EACH CHAPTER.

Chapter Two: New Habits

1959

The light chains rattled as Loretta grabbed onto them and sat on the swing. She kicked off the oval patch of dirt below, and glided forward. Free of any clips or ties, her hair trailed behind her, then blew around her face as she swung backwards. She looked out over the schoolyard with half-lidded eyes.

Clusters of teenagers chatted and laughed with each other. Her gaze lifted above them, above the school, and up to the grey, overcast sky.

Summer had come and gone, never being what she'd hoped for. The time spent with Freddy was the only good part; the rest was torture. Her mother and father hadn't said more than five words to her in almost a year. In her home, she didn't exist anymore. When she'd walk into a room they were in, she could see their jaws tighten and their backs stiffen. They wouldn't stop their conversation if they were having one, but the exchanges would be short and clipped. No chance for her to join in.

She wanted so badly for them to just scream at her and beat her and be done with it. But that wasn't possible. Beating someone would require you to acknowledge that they're alive.

But thinking about them only wore her down, so she let her thoughts circle back to her favorite daydream. Except recently, she didn't see only herself in the speeding car. Freddy was there, too, sitting beside her with his elbow hanging out the window. She'd never known where she was going as she flew down that empty road, but Freddy did. She could see it in the way he stared through the windshield.

She snapped back to reality at the sound of a dumpster lid slamming shut. Across the street, Freddy dusted his hands off as he walked along the side of the elementary school. The swing was left twisting and recoiling behind her as she dashed through the yard, between a few cruising automobiles on the road, and straight to the high, chain link fence that surrounded the back and sides of the building.

"Freddy." she called, fingers looping into the wide metal links. One step away from rounding the bend and disappearing, he stopped to look over his shoulder.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he approached the other side of the fence.

"Just saying hi."

For a second, she thought that he was going to put his hand on hers, but he only stood there, arms at his sides. "Am I gonna get you in trouble?" she asked.

"Probably." he replied with a shrug.

"Sorry. I better go." she waved her fingers through the fence and stepped back. All she'd wanted was to be near him for a minute or two. "Didn't mean to interrupt your work."

"Wait a minute, Loretta. You didn't walk all the way over here and waste my time for nothing." he stared her down. "What's wrong?"

She didn't respond, and he sighed. "Not telling me anything is just like lying to me. You know I hate that, so out with it. Is it your folks?"

"I shouldn't have bothered you." she said.

"Damn it, Loretta. Answer my question." in contrast to the harsh words, his voice was calm. "It is, isn't it?"

She gave a slight nod. A smirk threatened to stretch across his face, but he quickly suppressed it. The more her parents pushed her away, the more she needed him. He liked being the only thing in her life worth anything.

"I told you to forget about them." he said.

"Class is starting," she heard the bell ringing out.

"Loretta." he looked at her, pretending to be worried. "Are you gonna be okay?"

It was her turn to shrug. "I still have my dog."

She turned and began walking back to the high school. Freddy's inward smirk faded fast.

I still have you, Freddy.

That's what she should have said.

The left side of his jaw clenched as he followed her with his eyes.

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One week later…

The cigarette bent and split against the rough tree trunk. It was just past eleven o'clock, and Freddy was starting to get a little impatient.

Where the fuck was it? What was taking so long? He had to remind himself to relax. He'd waited days for this, and a few more minutes or even hours wouldn't kill him. Peering around the tree, he dug into his pocket for a new smoke. Loretta's house used to look a lot nicer, he noticed. Over the last few months, it had fallen into a state of disrepair. Especially those rose bushes. Weeds had shot up and choked the once-vibrant flowers. The second bush from the end of the row was completely dead and brittle.

He hunched over his lighter, about to flick it on, when the front door opened a crack. A tiny dog with thick brown fur squeezed through, darting down the steps and off to the bushes. The door clicked shut.

Its tongue flopped out the side of its opened mouth as it panted, lifting a leg. A thin, steady stream of liquid splashed onto the dirt.

There it was. That fucking Tomato.

He glanced at the windows. All of the curtains were down except on two of them, but no one was watching. Stepping out from behind the tree, Freddy crossed the untrimmed lawn. He moved with caution, creeping up on the distracted animal. Its black nose twitched as it finished peeing, and it turned to him. A rumbling growl began deep in its throat as it took a wide, aggressive stance.

Freddy slipped a piece of bacon out of his pocket, waving it low to the ground.

"Come here, Tomato." he whispered.

Its ears perked with interest. Unsure of what to do, Tomato lifted and lowered his front paws, prancing in place like an excited reindeer. Finally, it trotted forward, licking its snout. When it lunged for the bacon, Freddy grabbed it around the waist and hauled it up. He snickered at it, making sure it saw the tasty morsel of bacon crunch between his teeth.

It snapped at his wrist as he walked around to the side of the house, into thick shadows. He swung the back of his fist down into its face, relishing in the pained whimper that followed. He stooped down and pushed Tomato into the grass with one arm. Its legs kicked, but it was too small to overpower Freddy. He punched it again, staining two of his knuckles in its blood.

After pulling his folding knife out from beneath his belt, he flicked it open. The thin blade gleamed, catching the dim street light as he turned it over and over in his hand. The tip of the blade pushed into its back, as Freddy sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. The wet, sloppy scraping of metal on bone ended with a crunch, and Tomato's thrashing legs went limp.

He smiled to himself, satisfied that its spine was now severed. Frothy drool puddled around its mouth, front paws still clawing at the ground in vain. He pulled a bundle of thin cord from his pocket, and put a slip knot around the puppy's neck.

Now it was time for some fun.

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Loretta glanced up from her book. There should have been pawing at the door by now. It never took Tomato this long to go. She let the cover of the novel fall shut, and pushed herself up off the red wingchair. Opening the door, she stuck her head out and scoured the yard for any sign of her dog.

"Tomato," she called out as she patted her leg. There was no response.

She tugged on her slippers that were lined up with the other shoes and boots against the wall, and went out on the top step. She walked straight to the bushes, bending over them to see if he was hiding underneath. Her hair fell forward, parting on the back of her neck. Tucking one side behind her ear, she stood upright and spun around to scan the rest of their patchy lawn.

"Tomato?" she said again, a little louder. She turned to the house. The moonlight shone over the front, with the yard behind it receding into hazy darkness. Placing a hand on the exterior of the house, she took a few cautious steps forward. She called him several more times, wandering farther into the backyard. A sweeping wind shook the tree branches over her head. She looked up into the sycamore in front of her. Something small and still was up on one of the branches. As the tree shook more roughly, two wide, dark masses spread out from the form's sides, and it swooped down above Loretta. She flinched back, crouching slightly. It went behind her and landed on the ground with a heavy thud. She kept her distance, examining it closely. It looked like a large bird with a long, featherless neck. The bend of its folded wings stuck up, like hunched shoulders. It was bobbing its bald head up and down, pecking at something beneath it. She faintly made out what looked like tufts of fur poking up from between its talons.

As she approached it, it reeled back, flying away with a pounding of its wings against the air. Loretta didn't see where it went; her gazed was locked on the mangled fury mound at her feet. The entire back of the animal had been ripped open, with the flesh gone on both sides of its spine. The white, blood-smeared vertebrae stuck out like a chain of mountain peaks.

She gagged, doubling over. A bit of hot saliva dripped out of her mouth, splattering Tomato's remains.

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Loretta lay flat on her bed covers, arms lifeless at her sides. She stared up at the ceiling. Her newest book was on the floor in the corner of her room. The hard, green cover had bent on impact with the wall about an hour ago. She couldn't read it because there was no one to read to.

Eventually, she rolled onto her side. Her cheek rested on the bed, eyes nearly closing. It was only eight o'clock, but she couldn't wait to fall asleep. It felt like all she'd done with her free time the past two weeks was sleep. If she was conscious, then she wouldn't be able to stop what she'd seen that night from replaying in her mind. Before her lashes settled closed, she saw a short, needle-thin brown dog hair sticking out of the blanket, right where he used to curl up.

She jumped out of the bed.

After rushing through her door and down the stairs, she slipped on her black shoes and left the house.

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The double doors of Springwood elementary swung shut behind Loretta as she paced through the halls. The whole building seemed empty, but she pressed on in desperation. He had to still be here.

Her steps grew faster and farther apart, as she flew past lockers and closed doors with dark windows. She was nearly running when she turned a corner and saw him. His back was facing her, head hanging low as he lazily pushed a mop back and forth over the smooth grey tiles just outside a classroom. The bucket was against the door, half-full of murky water.

Hearing the commotion behind him, Freddy turned around. His hand was draped over the end of the mop stick, as he leaned his weight on it like a crutch.

"Hey." he said, not seeming particularly surprised. He was getting used to her popping in at the strangest places and times.

She walked straight up to him without missing a beat, and threw her arms around his neck. Stretching forward on the tips of her toes, she pressed her lips onto his.

The mop fell back on the wall and slid to the floor.

She broke the kiss and murmured something into his ear.

Gripping her forearm, he led her down the adjacent corridor. Her feet could barely keep up with him. He stopped by an unmarked, wooden door, and took his ring of keys off his belt. After fitting a small metal one into the lock, he pushed the door open and yanked Loretta inside.

She watched him close it and turn the interior lock vertical. Was this what she wanted? As he came closer, blocking out the dim ceiling light, she tried to shake off the sudden sense of fear that overtook her. She reasoned to herself that it was just nervousness; everyone was nervous the first time. But she had to do this. If she didn't, he would get bored with her and find someone else. Then she'd have no one.

He put an arm around her back, pulling her up against him, and began slipping her front buttons loose one by one, from her collar to her chest. He pulled the dress down off her shoulders, devouring the side of her neck.

He reached to the back of one of her thighs, and scooped her up off the ground. After lowering himself to his knees, he laid her down in front of him. It wasn't his basement floor, he thought, but it would do.

His eyes wandered over her bare skin, lingering on her modest undergarments. Instinctively, she drew her arms in and curled her hands over her chest. He shot her a scolding look and seized her wrists.

"You wanted this, right?" he asked, leaning in towards her face.

She gave a timid nod, and he forced the backs of her hands down onto the floor, just above her head.

"Then stay still."

Grasping the center of her plain cotton brassiere, he pushed it up to her throat. She felt hands on her, then lips and teeth. The tiles were hard and uncomfortable on her shoulder blades.

Freddy tugged her arms out of her short sleeves and slid the soft, creamy-white dress off her body, tossing it into the corner of the tiny space. It landed in a wrinkled heap against a rusted, sparsely stocked supply shelf.

Straddling her slender hips, he ripped open his belt buckle and fly. Her panties rolled over themselves as he dragged them to her knees, then raised her legs up to her chest to get the underwear past her foot. It dangled from one ankle, but he didn't bother with that. Holding her thigh back, he reached into his boxers with his other hand and pulled himself out.

He pushed into her to the hilt as he came down on his forearms. Her expression contorted with pain, teeth grinding. His pace picked up in mere seconds, giving her no time to adjust. Her hands searched for something to grab onto. She found nothing within reach, and closed her fingers into her palms.

Clutching her jaw, he turned her head to the left and lowered his mouth to her throat. A curtain of brown hair spread over the side of her face. She reached up to grip his shoulders as he slammed her harder. The initial, tearing sensation was beginning to dull, replaced by a mounting friction. She brought the knuckles of one hand to her teeth, biting down with apprehension.

Freddy's eyes took on an empty, predatory glaze as he pounded a cry out of her.

When he was finally finished, he sat back on his haunches to fix his fly, leaving her panting on the floor. A sheen of sweat reflected off her smooth stomach. She sat up a moment later, hooking on her bra and adjusting the straps on her shoulders. For the first time, she noticed how small and cramped the closet really was. On the lowest level of the shelf opposite her, were a cluster of dust-laden plastic bottles filled with different colored cleaning solutions. A stained rag with a patch stitched onto it was tented over the two tallest ones near the back. The floor wasn't very clean, either. While she stepped into her dress and began buttoning it back up, she found herself wishing that he'd taken her to his home, instead. Or anywhere, rather than this place.

But it was already over, and he was already turning the knob.

"I have some more work to do." he said, waiting for her to step out into the hall before closing the door.

"You have to go?"

"I have to." he said, sensing the need in her voice. He owned her now.

"Okay." she replied with a hint of disappointment, which he either didn't notice or didn't care about. He planted a quick kiss on her forehead and started back down the corridor.

She stood there, maybe expecting him to come back. But he never did, and after a while she went home.

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1960

Freddy stooped to the ground beside a lunch table in the bustling cafeteria. A few kids rushed around him, but most were sitting and eating. And talking. The continuous hum of chatter filled the room.

With a thick, yellow cloth in hand, he began wiping up the fresh splatter of peas and carrots, and something else that he couldn't identify. The new semester at Springwood Elementary had dragged in a whole new batch of brats that still didn't know how to fucking eat without making a mess. Shit like this never used to irritate him so much, but in the last few months he'd been feeling increasingly frustrated, and he didn't know why. Loretta let him have sex with her whenever he wanted, but it just didn't give him the same mental relief that it used to. That first time had been the best by far, with her body so pliable beneath him, and that delicious, pained expression on her face. Nothing could compare with the power rush he'd gotten when he tore through her.

He'd made her a woman, and there was no way to turn her back into a girl.

In the corner of his eye, the hems of pretty little dresses flitted past him. He shook the rag out into the plastic bucket and continued wiping at the floor. Reaching back to drop in another handful of mush, he hit the rim, and the bucket toppled to its side. It rolled in a half circle, letting out most of its contents. Freddy's groan was interrupted by an unrestrained chorus of snickers from behind him. He craned his neck, and saw a group of children sitting at a table, bursting with laughter. As soon as he made eye contact, they all looked away. Their mouths tightened into smirks, and their faces flushed as they tried not to let out a single giggle.

Freddy made quick work of the clean up, hurling the food into the bucket and rising to his feet. Those kids didn't intimidate him, but they reminded him of when he was a student there. It brought him back, and he didn't like it.

At the far end of the cafeteria, he elbowed the door open and left the room. It swung shut, sealing him off from the cacophony of chit-chat and clattering food trays.

He started down the corridor, the bucket swaying by his knees. As he approached the turn into the next hall, his footsteps were matched by a quick patter rushing up beside him. A small girl with wide, worried eyes cut him off. Her shiny brunette hair, tied back into a ponytail, bounced behind her head as she came to a full stop.

"Mr. Krueger?" she began, shifting her feet, "My name's Ann, and, um…"

He waited for her to continue, eyeing her petite fingers as she fiddled with them. She couldn't be more than seven years old. How did she even get out here?

When she finally broke the span of silence, her voice was high and pleading. "I'm really, really sorry for laughing at you. It was mean."

He raised an eyebrow, somewhat taken aback by her apology.

"My mommy told me that picking on people is just as bad as hitting them." she explained, "I didn't mean to do it; it just happened. And mommy says that when you hurt somebody, you have to make it up to them. So, how can I do that?"

Her last few words peaked his attention.

"You want to make it up to me?" he asked, tilting his head to the side to show that he was thinking. His index finger tapped his bottom lip. "Hmmm…Well, I still have to mop the dirty floor in there, and I need quite a few bottles of cleaner to get the job done. You can help me carry them back."

"Am I allowed to go? I wont get in trouble with my teachers?"

"Oh, no. Not if you're helping an adult. My helpers can go anywhere I go." he assured her, extending his free hand with a smile.

She took it without hesitation, and they disappeared around the corner. In less than a minute, they arrived at a familiar closed door. It was unmarked, the same one he'd led Loretta to. He wasn't sure why he'd taken her to this exact one, and not one of the other half-dozen closets that got less foot traffic past them. He felt drawn to it, lured in by the chance to relive a perfect memory.

The door creaked open, and Freddy ushered the child in before him. She crouched to see the bottles, most half-filled or less, containing an assortment of brightly colored liquids. They sloshed within the plastic containers when she lifted them out.

"Do you need these ones?" she asked, cradling them in both arms.

"Yeah," he said, still facing the door, "but I want to show you something first."

Before she could process what was happening, he'd moved behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist. He pulled her backwards onto his lap, vaguely aware that she was talking to him.

What are you doing?

Why are we sitting on the floor, Mr. Krueger?

Her words were lost among the thoughts in his head, screaming for him to touch her hair, touch her legs, touch more.

His hand disappeared under her dress, and that was when he heard her.

"That hurts! Stop it!" she wailed, struggling against his arm. She grabbed it with both of her tiny hands, trying to force it off her, but was unable to budge it.

"What are you doing?"

"Shut up, you little bitch." he snarled into the side of her face.

Her body shuddered as she began sobbing. He could smell the sweat under her hair and on the back of her neck, the fear seeping through her skin. Loose brown strands stuck to her forehead, her frazzled ponytail sagging off to one side with all her thrashing.

He lifted his hand up, examining it. The middle finger was coated in diluted blood to the last knuckle. He smirked, throwing her face-down onto the floor and unzipping his fly. She rolled over to stare straight up at him as he displayed himself.

"Relax, or it's going to hurt a lot more than these." he warned, wiggling his fingers.

She squeezed her eyes shut, crying out as loudly as she could. He crawled forward to clamp a hand over her mouth. Digging her puny fingernails into his wrist, she tilted her head back far enough to slip her top row of teeth free. They gnashed on the webbing in between his thumb and index finger, drawing a crescent of blood. He growled, recoiling from her. Right before she started yelling again, he brought his entire weight down on her throat with one arm, crushing her windpipe. She choked out something barely audible, then went silent. Her eyes darted around, from Freddy, to the ceiling and walls, searching for anything to help her. Her mouth was wide open, but took in no breath.

Freddy was surprised at himself. He'd wanted to fuck her, not strangle her, and yet feeling the panic building within her the longer she went without air was one of the most gratifying experiences he'd ever had. And when she fell still, head rolling to the right, he found that he no longer needed to fuck anything. He would, however, need to wipe that semen off the floor after getting rid of the body. He traced a single finger on her discolored neck, then got up and dusted himself off.

He was pretty sure he kept a roll of trash bags in here, somewhere.

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Plopping down on a creaky stool, Freddy raked his fingers through his hair. He knew he should have waited longer than just a few weeks to do this again. That little brunette whore in the school's dumpster had barely started to rot, and already he was looking down at the next one. She had red hair and freckles, and when he'd seen her in the playground that morning, he thought of how much he'd love to carve out each and every one of them.

Her body, naked except for a pair of yellow polka-dot panties, began to stir. She could barely move on the dirty cement floor, with deep purple bruises blooming on her arms and thighs. He was certain that her right knee was broken, too.

One of the advantages of bringing her to his home, was that he could take his time with everything. And he had. With all his kitchen knives and strait-razors at his disposal, he made sure to give the pint-sized slut one hell of a going away party.

He stood up, sauntering to his work table to select a new toy. A shiny, eight-inch silver razor caught his eye, and he picked it out. The weight of it felt appropriate for the job.

"I wish we could play some more, sweetheart," he sighed, crouching beside her, "but Uncle Freddy's having company tonight. I have to go get ready."

She whimpered, and put up her hands in defense, cringing away. He slashed the blade diagonally across her bare stomach. She clutched at the wound, and he swung the weapon down again, over the dimples in her pudgy hands. With no energy left to cry or beg, all she could do was lie there and suck in her last, ragged breath, before he put an end to her.

His nose wrinkled in disgust as a strong stench emanated from the child.

"Hey, hey! Knock that off, bitch." he shouted at the corpse, kicking her in the side. He didn't need his house smelling like piss and shit. Especially not tonight.

Thick, black blood flowed down her sides, forming two dark puddles that reflected a sliver of light at the edges. He just remembered that he hadn't asked her for her name. Whatever. It would be in the papers soon.

After wrapping up the body, he hauled it over one shoulder and carried it out to his truck. He folded her into the foot space in front of the passenger's seat and slammed the door shut. If he hurried, he could dump her off in the forest, run back home for a quick shower, and still pick up Loretta on time.

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The sun had just sunk past the tree line, leaving a haze of orange that filtered up into the dark blue sky. A handful of stars flickered high above, as the truck rolled into the driveway at 1428 Elm.

Loretta followed behind Freddy, and they climbed the double step to get inside the house. It was a bit tidier than usual, she noted. Only a few pieces of unwashed clothing were strewn over the worn green couch in the living room. All the times she'd been here before, there had always been a high pile. Freddy had a distaste for doing laundry, and if she let him, he'd wear the same shirt every day, forever.

He left to get drinks out of the fridge, while she looked over the room. And honestly, there wasn't much to look at. The furniture he had was old, probably garbage picked twelve generations ago. The wooden end tables had layers of scuffs and scratches, made more noticeable by the absence of any decorations to cover them. Not even a framed photo. In fact, now that she thought about it, she didn't remember ever seeing a single picture anywhere in his home. But that was okay; she knew he didn't have any family, except his foster father, and the way he spoke about the man made it clear that he didn't want "that bastard's" face displayed on the walls.

She heard a pop of static behind her, but before she could turn, she felt Freddy against her back. His arms slipped around her waist, wrapping her up. He started to sway to the upbeat rhythm of the song on the radio. She laughed as he spun her towards him and clasped his hand over hers. A youthful voice sounded from the fuzzy speakers.

Every night, I hope and pray

A dream lover will come my way,

A girl to hold in my arms,

And know the magic of her charms

He pulled her into the center of the room, and placed his other hand on the small of her back, rocking them from side to side. She fell backwards into a surprise dip with a gasp.

Because I want a girl

To call my own

I want a dream lover,

So I don't have to dream alone.

She beamed up at him. The carefully clipped back tresses she'd worked on were disheveled now, but she didn't care. A few stray strands dangled over her flushed cheeks, blowing to the side when he twirled her again. Her light, cotton dress fanned around her legs.

She wondered what had put him in such a good mood. Since asking ran the risk of spoiling it, she decided to keep her observations to herself. This was too much fun.

They were both panting when the song faded out at the end, and they moved to the couch. It creaked as Freddy fell back onto one of the cushions. Loretta sat beside him.

"Where are those drinks?" she asked, smirking.

A mischievous twinkle lit his eyes, one she hadn't seen since they'd first started going out. She mentally smacked herself at the thought. Nostalgia was meant for old ladies in rocking chairs.

"Well, I have a confession to make." he teased, "but you have to promise you won't think less of me."

"You have my word, sir." she decided to play along.

"I didn't get any booze." he said, clearly enjoying her puzzled expression.

She shoved his chest in mock offense, "And why not?"

"Because I was busy getting something else."

She waited for him to explain. Instead, he slipped his fingers into his back pocket, taking out a small, gold ring.

"I want you to be my wife."

The last traces of playfulness vanished from her face. She didn't even have to think about it.

"Okay. I mean, yes." she exhaled, mirroring his wide grin, "Yes."

He lifted her onto his lap, and their lips joined as if the ceremony were taking place right there on the couch.

"Aren't you going to put it on?" she asked, holding up her left hand.

"Right."

He scratched the back of his head, and took her fingers, slipping the simple band onto the one beside her pinky. That part was supposed to come before the kiss, he thought. Damn.

It didn't look like she cared, at least. While he was getting up, she admired her new jewelry from multiple angles.

"Freddy," she said as she rose to her feet, throwing her arms around him, "thank you so much. It's beautiful."

The piece of trash hadn't been anywhere near expensive; it was copper with gold plating. He had to smile at how easy she was to please. He bet he could have given her a rubber band, and she would have been just as enamored with it.

She rested her cheek on his chest, and fell in with the laid back melody coming from the speakers.

Put your head on my shoulder

Hold me in your arms,

Baby,

Squeeze me oh so tight.

Show me

That you love me too.

He cupped the back of her head, stroking his thumb over her soft hair.

Put your lips next to mine, dear

Won't you kiss me once,

Baby,

Just a kiss goodnight?

Maybe

You and I will fall in love.

With her arms draped on the back of his neck, Loretta nestled into his t-shirt. The music filled the house and drifted through the screened window, into the cool night air. Their slow, subtle movements were framed by the painted shutters. A group of children coming down the sidewalk giggled and made faces at each other as they stopped for a moment to mock the couple. In a few months, though, there would be no children out this late. Not after the third one goes missing, and the people of Springwood begin to realize that they're dealing not with coincidence, but malevolence.

A/N: Chapter 3 will be posted one week from now, on Thursday, May 21.

I laughed so hard re-reading the end of this chapter. In two consecutive scenes, Freddy tortures and murders little girls, and I didn't even think twice about it. No big deal. But when he proposed to Loretta with a cheap-ass ring, I was like, "YOU BASTARD! HOW DARE YOU?"

Unfortunately for Loretta, however, a fake engagement ring is only the beginning of her problems. I've got quite a few surprises in store for her (and you). Stay tuned, folks.

And RIP Tomato.

FURTHER DISCLAIMERS: The songs used are "Dream Lover" by Bobby Darin, and "Put Your Head on My Shoulder" by Paul Anka. I own neither of these songs.