The swan glides through life on elegance and idealism, while the vulture circles patiently, waiting for things to get ugly. As friends, there's a grudging respect — the swan appreciates the vulture's brutal honesty, and the vulture secretly admires having something beautiful nearby. Romantically, however, this is a disaster in slow motion: the swan wants candlelight and poetry, and the vulture considers showing up on time a grand romantic gesture. Between the sheets it's passable, but the swan will spend the whole time wondering why it smells faintly of something dead.
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