The following Sunday morning, Gravor climbed down from his loft, careful not to put any pressure on his bandaged hands as he descended the ladder, to find a naked woman in his kitchen. She was squat, and tan all over, with a mane of wild, black hair. She was frying something on the stove, and as she did, she swayed her sagging, dimpled bottom to an inaudible rhythm. She heard him and turned just as he was about to back away.
"Hey," she chirped and trotted over to offer him a pudgy hand. "You must be Blue's roommate."
Blueberry had moved in to Gravor's home without discussion. As soon as they had begun walking back toward town after the brush with death in the gorge, Gravor had seen Blueberry's mind. Every step that Blueberry remained by his side, only breaking his jubilant monologue about the day's events to hoot with laughter, drove the realization in deeper. When they arrived at Gravor's house, Gravor didn't even attempt to see Blueberry off at the front gate. He just walked straight inside, leaving the door open behind him.
"I'm Beezy!" the woman announced as if declaring a victory. Her eyes were bright and honest in her lemon-shaped face. Gravor would've been ashamed to meet them even if she were swaddled from head to toe. He held out a limp hand, his gaze planted on the pendulous breast that swung softly under her proffered arm. Like her entire body, her breasts were dark amber and covered in faint wrinkles. Much of their considerable surface was covered by two enormous nipples that lent them an embarrassing but tantalizing oddness. Beezy winced, and a network of wrinkles to leap across her face. "Goodness, what happened to you?" She took his wrist gently between her fingers and gave it a gentle shake.
"Hi, um, Beezy, would you mind...?" Gravor trailed off in the hope that Beezy would finish his thought on her own. Beezy flashed an inquisitive smile.
"...getting dressed, please?" he finished.
A storm passed behind Beezy's clear eyes, and her lips grew tight. "That's the way it is, is it?" Drawing up her mighty chest, she shouldered past Gravor and out of the kitchen. "You better turn those eggs, or they'll burn!" she warned as she stomped into Gravor's erstwhile bedroom, which Blueberry had made his roost.
