[Jeez, Ford, he was trying to smooth over his anxiety about what a monumental thing this is by trying to not think of it like a wedding. There's just no denying exactly how much like a proposal that sounded, or the way it makes him feel like his stomach's gone off on an adventure somewhere without him and might probably never come back. It's not like he expected anything less, of course. Ford Pines has always had a flair for the dramatic, the theatrical. He would say this wasn't a big deal and then in the next breath make it a very big deal indeed.
That's part of his charm, admittedly. It makes Fiddleford's chest feel very warm to see him being so earnest, and it's that earnestness more than anything that calms him down about this instead of making him balk. It's just another thing on the long list of things that set this Ford apart from the one he tried to convince himself he didn't care about.
And anyway -- anyway it's still just fruit, and it's still just Ford, and it's fine. If anything it's a promise to himself that even with the future he has to live through, there will be something good waiting for him in thirty years. It's something to keep him optimistic, and he needs that.
what the fuck this is so gAY
That's part of his charm, admittedly. It makes Fiddleford's chest feel very warm to see him being so earnest, and it's that earnestness more than anything that calms him down about this instead of making him balk. It's just another thing on the long list of things that set this Ford apart from the one he tried to convince himself he didn't care about.
And anyway -- anyway it's still just fruit, and it's still just Ford, and it's fine. If anything it's a promise to himself that even with the future he has to live through, there will be something good waiting for him in thirty years. It's something to keep him optimistic, and he needs that.
So, with all that in mind, he says:]
Yes. Yes, Stanford, of course I will.