In my flash forward I was hauling a shitload of donuts in the rickshaw...
We went here for our anniversary so I nominate it as a Tweet Up lunch location. I'm back on Twitter in a observing capacity much like the FBI monitors your cell phone texts.
So the runaway balloon dealie may have been bullshit. Maybe little Falcon (Falcon? You're f-ing with me, right?) can do the talk show circuit.
Enjoy your cross racing. Enjoy your sex. Eat a big ol' pastry. See you in church.