I channel Rosita here. Don't get it twisted, 'Click' did suck, but I saw it in the theater because Adam Sandler has always been my problematic fave (I'm a mid 90s kid). Drop your problematic (or unproblematic) fave in your review. Thanks!

"OK, when I do this, I like to talk celeb gossip. Since you and Michonne are the celebs, I can't do that here. So I'm going to start off with a silly question. Who was the actor that you couldn't wait to see in a movie, no matter how bad it looked?"

"Easy. Eddie Murphy. You?" Rick shifted in the plastic upright lawn chair.

Rosita tied an apron around him. The birds started chirping as they were positioned in the side yard. "Adam Sandler."

"Really? Interesting."

"Yeah. Hey, you think Eddie Murphy used his fat suit from Nutty Professor to protect himself from the walkers?"

Rick laughed. "Sandler had a fat suit too. Remember that remote control movie 'Click'?"

Rosita smiled. "Oh! Yeah! I loved that movie." She turned the shaver on.

"That movie sucked." Rick recalled with a fondness, yearning for a creature comfort past time: stuck inside, feeling sick, with no choice but to watch a mediocre film on basic cable.

"What?!" Rosita's face twisted in disappointment. "Its awesome. He realized it was his family was the one thing he needed to pay attention to all along. That has 'Rick Grimes' written all over." She began to buzz off the sides.

"Rosita. No one liked that movie."

The opening of a window stopped them both in their tracks.

"Rick! Nooooo!" Michonne stuck her head out, clutching the sheet around her naked body.

Rick smiled, close lipped, and did a small wave, timid in nature. "She's going to get mad at you Rosita. Not at me."

Zip. "You're telling me this while I have clippers in my hand? I could cause major damage right now." Zip.

"I agree. And its not logical. Its just that when she gets frustrated at me with her cute scowly face, parts of my body do involuntary things, and she knows it."

"Horny old couple." The clippers continued their magic.

Michonne scrambled out, tank top askew, wearing oversized athletic shorts.

It was too late. The damage was done. Ricks hair was buzzed off, short on the sides, revealing more peppered roots. A bit longer on top, but not by much. With a man who normally has blood, dirt, sweat and slash or walker guts all over him by the time he met up with family for dinner, a very short haircut was Ricks most unusual look yet.

Michonne eyed the woman behind him, shaver still in her hand. "Rosita," she said sympathetically.

"Don't get mad at her. Get mad at me." Rick untied his apron.

"One, you would like that too much. Two, I'm not mad at her. I just want to know how you got roped into all this."

Rick stood up and shook his shirt to get off any errant hairs still left on him. The movement caused Michonne to stare at the discarded curls on the tarp at his feet. She moved towards him, put a hand on top of his hand, rubbing the short hair in between her fingers.

"Do you remember that time we ate Jesus's apple in bed, and I was playing with your hair? You were so beautiful. Then I had to get up and you were sex drunk, rambling about the world being ours?"

Rick smiled. "And nothing happened after that."

Michonne let go of his scalp and returned the grin. "Absolutely nothing. Happily ever after, the end." She felt a tear roll down her face, wiped it away before Rick could. "Now the world is mine, but it's also yours too. The haircut is just going to be something I have to get used to." Her eyes searched for Rosita. "You did a great job. Seriously."

Rosita smiled. "When you trim Abe's hair into whatever shape that was, everything else is easy," she called out.

Michonne nodded and squeezed Ricks shoulder before heading back into the house.

Before Rick and Rosita had time to react, the sounds of horses clomping stopped them.

Maggie hopped out of the carriage, smiling, with a basket full of cornbread, one piece wrapped up in paper. "I come in peace."

Rick smiled back. "Glad to see you. Thank you for the generous gift."

Maggie handed the basket over to him, taking the wrapped piece out. "I made this one specifically for Negan, can I give it to h—"

"—no thank you."

"It-It'd be a shame to waste this special piece though."

Rick nodded. "If it's special, I'll just give it to Judith then. Negan doesn't deserve treats." He winked.

Maggie withered her eyes. She threw the cornbread in question on the ground and neutralized it by stomping on it with the heel of her boot. She glared at Rick and then at whoever was coming out of the front door.

Michonne emerged again, her outfit now fixed: tank top, tight pants, boots, katana strapped to her back. She sauntered over. "Hi Maggie! Nice cornbread. Maybe we can give Negan a piece, it'd be a shame if he'd choke on it, right?" She turned to Rick. "I gotta take a walk with her. We'll be back." She kissed Ricks forehead and linked arms with Maggie.

"Damn, not even a cheek kiss." Rosita said. "As if I couldn't respect her any more. I'm taking notes."