"I just really love buffets and that is why I am crippled," the pot smoking abuser from next door mumbles to me, grabbing his chest as I try to mutter a polite response and walk away without looking like I'm sprinting. Unfortunately when cornered in your own yard, there aren't many options of where to go, just back to the porch. And unfortunately, this awkward response of mine probably indicates that we are now best friends and he will now randomly stop by and have horrible conversations with us like our old neighbor with a shotgun and a Chinese mail-order-bride.
I am not exactly sure how buffets make you crippled, I am not exactly sure that he was actually crippled. He walks just fine, and from the police pounding on their door at all times of the day and night we for sure know he is not too crippled to beat his wife. However, he apparently became crippled from too many buffets. Therefore: the moral of the story, don't eat at too many buffets, or else you will become a crippled wife beater.