"Krystyn wrote in to suggest that you write a guest entry about the missing seventeenth bun," I told Pär. Only when I said it to him I called her "Glitterbits", which is Pärspeak for "Krystyn"; if I'd said her real name, he wouldn't have known whom I was talking about. I do a lot of translating between my man and the outside world. Polyglots, we are. That last sentence, just to prove my point, was Yodaspeak.

"Hmm," he mused. "What is the story of the missing seventeenth bun? Who is that bun?"

"Bun Solo," I said.

He stared at me.

"Bun Solo," he said. "Yes! And why isn't he with the bun troops? Is he a pilot, or a deserter, or...?"

"He's a dessert-er," I said.

He stared at me. Helplessly, I felt my face break into a big cheesy smile.

"Hee hee!"

"You should write up this conversation," he said. "This time you get all the good lines."

"Those aren't good lines," I said.