Blake was so interested in Rachel cladistically. "If my priors are correct, there's a 98.3% chance you want me," Blake said suggestively. "That's good enough for me."
"Oh yes! I want you with all my gene pool!" she exclaimed. Blake's priors were correct. Her bakery had finally found meaning.
Blake couldn't wait to rip Rachel's bodice. He turned on his computer so that he could Google where the bodice would be located. He wanted to be prepared. It was good that the Internet had finally come to Pastryton.
Suddenly, inspiration hit Blake like a deer hits the grill of a mint condition Chevy on a foggy night. "Boda" was Spanish for wedding. "Bodice" was probably French for wedding-thing. You needed to know a lot of French to be an expert baker. But Blake didn't have a whole lot of other opportunities to use his French in Pastryton. He hoped Rachel would like him using his French in her. All of his French. On her.
Finally, Blake couldn't resist a second more. It was not when he planned it, but he couldn't hold it in any longer. Blake spontaneously popped the question! "Do you like Harry Potter and/or rational thinking? Do you want to be less wrong?"
"Yes!" Rachel cried out with her whole soul. "Oh yes, oh yes, oh yes!" She tackled him and they rolled around for an hour. It was amazing how femininely she could roll and how masculinely he could roll and how perfectly they rolled together, like two ball bearings milled for the same track. They rolled on the thing she had put down on the grass for them to have their picnic upon. Blake wasn't sure whether it was supposed to be a tablecloth or a blanket. The pattern on it looked more like gingham than flannel, but he wasn't an expert. He would have to ask his sister about it. But that could wait for later. When he was done rolling.
"I started out with bad priors about you, Blake. About all of Pastryton really. But I've updated them now."
"As it should be, Rachel. As it should be."
"That's not the only thing I've updated my priors about lately."
"I can't believe that Rachel is going back to Manhattan because of a misunderstanding I could explain to her in six words but have instead chosen to make a huge plot point."
"Have you tried just telling her how you feel, Blakeston?"
"Is that... is that a thing you can do? Like there are words for such things? This is incredible, Mom! What an amazing idea! No one else could give advice like you do!" Blake couldn't wait to get home, turn on his computer with his thick, rod-like fingers, and Google "words that describe emotions."
"Just try it!" Rachel pleaded. "You might like it." It wasn't really a test, but Rachel knew it kind of was.
Blake knew that he would have to adapt to some of Rachel's big city ways if he wanted to live with her forever, kind of like two vampires but without the blood and coffins and stuff. But still living together, just like vampires do.
"Alright, I'll give it a try." He got a mouthful and squished it around. It was creamy, with a touch of salt. He swallowed, and a smile grew on his face. "Wow! I really can't believe it's not butter!"
"You must never use this in a croissant," Rachel said very seriously.
Blake pinky sweared.