It’s hotter than a pancake’s ass, today. I was just slicin’ some watermelon with my butcher knife. Red pulp, sweet and fibrous, the juice runnin’ all over the kitchen table and drippin’ down on the floor, like blood. Yeah, there I was, just scalpin’ that seedless mofo, cuttin' through the rind,  and for some damned haywire reason I thought of you.  Hey, it’s been a while since we tossed back a…