"Bored to death," the sharp-eyed thief brushed off Eddie's hand, standing up and turning to leave in disdain.
"How can such things be boring? The pursuit of romance and passion is one of life's greatest pleasures!" Eddie chased after him, keeping a safe distance as he playfully taunted, "My friend, don't be shy! If you're inexperienced, I can share some tips. Though I'm no Casanova, together we can explore the art! Let's talk, no need for knives!"
The sharp-eyed thief, seething with irritation, halted his steps as his hand flickered, revealing a gleaming dagger. Eddie, seeing the weapon trained at his neck, quickly raised his hands in surrender, a mischievous grin still playing on his lips.
"Get lost. We are not the same," the thief spat out through clenched teeth, struggling to hold back the urge to end the nuisance before him.
"Wait, you don't like women?" Eddie gasped exaggeratedly, "Could you be the legendary 'receiver' in the tales?"
"What's a 'receiver'?" The thief was perplexed.
"In this world, there are 'givers' and 'receivers.' Givers do all the hard work; they sow the seeds, toil and sweat. Receivers, on the other hand, they just relax and enjoy.
They're the ones living the good life. Ouch!" Eddie didn't finish his sentence as a well-aimed punch landed on his face.
"I'm warning you, next time you see me, keep your distance, or I'll kill you!" The thief fumed, though Eddie had to admit, even angry, the thief was quite striking.
Some people are just naturally charming, whether they're smiling or fuming, and they become more likable the more you look at them.
Others, however, are the complete opposite, repulsive in every expression, making you want to turn away or worse. Eddie found himself intrigued by the former category the thief belonged to.
Despite the threat, Eddie's smile widened, "Don't worry, I'll keep my distance. After all, I wouldn't want such a charming 'receiver' to fall for me!"
The thief, already on the edge, felt like he was speaking to a madman. "You think I'd fall for you?" he echoed in disbelief, his words dripping with incredulity.
"Of course!" Eddie boasted with no lack of self-admiration.
"A man as outstanding and handsome as me, is popular."
" But let me clarify one thing: while I am adored by all — where flowers bloom and cars stop to admire me, where I'm known far and wide as the undefeated champ, the jewel of men — I only have eyes for beautiful women. So, please, refrain from falling for me."
The thief almost collapsed right there from sheer exasperation. He'd encountered narcissists before, but this level of self-obsession was unparalleled. If the city walls of White Stone City were compared to Eddie's ego, they'd be mere paper.
Even if all the narcissists in the world were combined, they would pale in comparison to Eddie's grandeur.
The thief secretly rejoiced he wasn't afflicted with such vanity. Otherwise, standing next to Eddie, he might have felt compelled to end his misery.
How could such an oddity exist in the world? 'Bizarre' hardly covered Eddie's mix of flirtatious demeanor and extreme self-love.
"Many handsome men have confessed their love to me, but my heart belongs only to beautiful women, forever," Eddie affirmed, clenching his fist.
"Rest assured, I wouldn't fancy an exceptional toad like you, ever," the thief retorted internally, deeming Eddie's aspirations as ludicrous as a toad yearning for a swan's affection.
"That's a relief," Eddie sighed dramatically, feigning a great weight lifted off his shoulders. "I've always been concerned about that. Now that I know you're not into men and share my passion for beautiful women, we have common ground.
Let's hit the town together! I've been meaning to write a 'Guide to Charming Ladies,' and I think you'd be a perfect partner for such an endeavor." Eddie enthusiastically wrapped his arm around the thief's shoulder, acting as if he'd found a kindred spirit in the art of love.
"I suggest you write your 'Guide to Wooing Ladies' on your own. I've got things to do and can't accompany you," the thief retorted with a cold laugh, mocking Eddie's claim to be well-versed and accomplished.
"You seem to doubt my profound knowledge. You've misunderstood me entirely. Once you realize even a fraction of my extensive erudition, you'll be utterly captivated by my intellect."
"Initially, I was merely concealing my abilities, fearing you might fall head over heels for me, desiring more than a friendship. Understand now, my friend? Do I seem like an ordinary man to you? No, I am a genius!" Eddie almost seemed ready to tattoo the word 'genius' on his forehead.
"Genius? More like a naturally born fool," the thief scoffed, never encountering such an arrogant narcissist daring enough to proclaim himself a genius. If all geniuses were like him, humanity would be nearing its end.
Eddie, with a flourish of self-assurance, continued, "I understand your doubt, but let me assure you of my vast wisdom. "
"For instance, the esteemed Walt Whitman and the illustrious Emily Dickinson, have you heard of them?"
" Even they, in their poetic genius, have been inspired by my works. You see, much of their acclaim can be traced back to the seeds of creativity I planted!"
"Walt Whitman? Emily Dickinson? Never heard of them," the thief replied, his ignorance about these figures apparent.
"Ah, that's a sad revelation. These are stalwarts of American poetry, shaping the course of literary history. Not knowing them is a disservice to your cultural education!" Eddie reproached, shaking his head in a mix of disappointment and superiority.
The thief, feeling a mix of annoyance and curiosity, challenged, "So, tell me about this grand influence you've had on their works. I'm eager to learn."
Eddie smirked, "For instance, Whitman's expansive, free-flowing 'Leaves of Grass' and Dickinson's introspective, succinct style in her poems — both echo the teachings and writings I've anonymously shared over the years. My poetry, my friend, is a river feeding into the vast ocean of their works!"
The thief rolled his eyes, incredulous, "And I suppose next you'll tell me you were the muse for 'I Sing the Body Electric' or 'Hope is the thing with feathers'?"
Eddie nodded earnestly, "Precisely! It's delightful to see you're getting familiar with their work, even if you're questioning my role. Education is the first step to enlightenment, after all!"
The thief, utterly exasperated, couldn't believe the audacious claims. Yet, there was something oddly captivating about Eddie's unwavering confidence and bizarre assertions.
He shook his head, trying to dismiss the nonsensical conversation, yet a part of him wondered about the strange world of poetry Eddie claimed to master.