[Abed stands not far off, holding a box of tissues he's painted to look like a camera.]

Blushing and giggling, the girl floats away. She knows it wouldn't last -- couldn't last, even if it hadn't been a curse. The sailor's wife is the sea, and the cowboy's mistress is the open plain. But she'll hold a hand to her lips, which taste of salt and smoke, and think to herself: It was worth it.