Anyway, Here's Wonderwall

"She's just jealous, you know," Jill proposed, perched atop her stool behind the sales counter and holding forth on her latest nonsense of the day. "I get it-- a lonely widow and her dry, shrivelled old--"

A surprised laugh bubbled out of Amber, who was rearranging stock in the music shop where they worked. "Jill."

"--She's just jealous of our youthful love," Jill abridged, as angelic in tone as her face absolutely wasn't. She leaned heavily on her elbows with a billowy sigh, and went back to idly doodling moustaches on the faces of the pretty people in Cosmo.

Of course, the silence lasted only a moment.

"I'm offended, really," she began again, unable to help herself. "I thought Jesse and I were doing her a public service, you know-- bringing a little excitement into her life. I certainly wouldn't mind if she wanted to listen in and rub--"

"JILL," Amber interrupted, still laughing helplessly but trying in earnest to put a stop to this line of discussion, cognizant of the several teenage boys noodling about with poor attempts at "Wonderwall" on the store's used guitars. They weren't paying a lick of attention to the girls' conversation, of course, but if the excuse of saving their innocent ears got Amber's out of it too, she was all for it.

Jill looked up at the scene, smirking at Amber's obvious play, before diving back in from a different angle. "You know, we should get her a boyfriend."

"Oh yeah?" Amber raised her eyebrows without turning from the guitar she was wiping clean of smudges. "I thought Mrs. P was already pretty committed to her boy Jesús-- I've seen his pictures and his name all over her curio cabinets."

"And you say I'm bad," Jill tsked at her best friend, proud. "But I think our girl can do better," she decided, spinning in the stool for inspiration. "How about Fred?"

Amber paused. "Fred, the store's landlord. Fred, who's 80 years old."

"Sure, who doesn't like an older man?" Jill agreed, breezily. "He's a silver fox. Look at that specimen," she insisted, waving a hand grandly in the direction of the senile old man, who was busy yelling at pigeons outside the shop.

Amber snorted. "They'd make quite the pair." She eyed her friend with a grin. "I don't know, you sure you want to set up the woman responsible for a roof over your head and the man responsible for your livelihood? Seems like a dangerous combo."

"What's life without risk?" Jill mused. "And anyway, it's always worth it for true love."