I'm grinning. Grinning as I stroll into the bar, grinning as I order a drink, grinning as I scan the room. Smile wide and you always look friendly, and tonight I want somebody to talk with. Somebody to converse with, that sort of stuff, share stories. Perhaps tell a white lie or two about how I just came home from Iraq. Might explain the scars on my face and neck. A girl, perhaps just able to drink, walks up to the bar after entering. She's very sad looking. Awww.

Follow up:

"Hey!" I say, leaning close to her. "Can I buy you something to drink?"

She nods, mumbling something about a rum and coke. What luck, that's my favorite drink! I express that to her, still grinning, and she just nods slowly. We sip our drinks, they are very good the bartender is an expert, before I strike up a conversation.

"From around here?" I ask her in my cheeriest voice.

"Yuh-huh," awww, she sounds so sad.

"Live around here?"

"Nuh-huh."

"Visiting."

"Kinda. My daddy died not too long ago."

Now isn't that the saddest thing you ever heard? The tone in her voice was just so heart-wrenching. I almost stopped my smiling! It did falter, though, but I tried to be just as friendly and as sweet. For her, you know? I give her my condolences, poor thing. She just nods and asks me why I'm smiling.

"Because, even if I'm sad, I won't look it. It makes other people happy when somebody smiles, so that in turn lightens my mood." I lean a bit closer to her. "Is it working for you any?"

She shakes her head. Hmm, how can I help her?
--
By the end of the night, she's laughing and giggling. Mostly just drunk, but hey. She offers to take me back to her motel room, even! Wow! Considering how pretty she is, how could I resist? When we arrive, she wraps her arms around me, and tries to touch my cheek. Can't have that, can we? I gently shoo her hand away, chuckling. Still grinning.

"Can you take off your hood, honey?" She says, stumbling slightly. "I wanna see your face."

"You won't scream?"

"Nuh-huh."

I push back my hood, as she asked. I'm grinning, trying to ease the shock. She backs away from me, face white in horror. I approach, arms out, still grinning. Why should I be a threat to her? Honestly, I think I love her. I know it sounds silly, but she's just so nice and understanding. She screams and kicks me in the shin. Now that hurt! Jesus!
Why did she do that? Maybe she did some LSD when she entered the bar, and it's just taking effect? I dunno. I don't do that stuff. It's wrong. Evil and wrong.

"I'm not that ugly, am I?" I ask her.

I look in the mirror. It's me. Just plain ol' me. Grinning from ear to ear, eyes nice and shining, hair pulled into a ponytail, familier strips of smoothed flesh that mark the place where my cheeks and lips were cut to show my wonderful smile...
--
She's shocked a bit. Her name is Bernice. What a pretty name, don't you think? Goes well with her face. We look in the mirror at each other. I'm behind her, hands on her shoulders, and she's obviously in front of me, holding my hands. She got a lot better about this already, despite the shock.

We're both grinning, our eyes are shining, and I lift my hand to stroke her hair.

My hands are still a bit crimson, since it was a really messy. Her chin, neck and the front of her shirt are a dark red. I drag a few bits of dried blood into her hair when I pet it. Bernice is still smiling, though. We look at each other, make eye contact, through the mirror. She's so pretty.

The strips that were her lips will heal, even though now it looks like she's nice and made-up with lipstick and all that. I left those nice cheeks, unlike the one who did me. They'll heal over soon and she'll always be pretty and smiling and perfect. Okay, so I didn't leave her cheeks fully intact. Just the needed places, up to her cheekbones to really accent her smile. Her cheekbones look even better.

We're grinning. Grinning as we put up the hoods on our jackets up, grinning as we walk out of the motel, grinning as we toss the bag full of flesh and muscle and veins, grinning as we go to brighten lives of others...