“Look out, Baxter, this train has a one-way ticket with your name on it.” Farrah pulls the imaginary whistle near her head. “Woo . . . wooooo.” She charges toward him while his back is turned to her. She leaps on top of him, landing in the piggyback position. Unsure of really what to do, I stand there, staring . . . and wondering how far this is going to go. Alec twirls her around in circles as she clings to his shoulders. “Ride it, bitch, ride it!” Farrah calls out, swinging a nonexistent lasso above her head. What in the ever-living hell is happening?
