One.

No matter how far I run, it's still on my back. The monster you and I formed, despite all my efforts to stay away... it appeared, it existed, and now you left me to deal with it.

Two.

Now it's growing bigger, stronger. I can run all I like, but it chases me just as fast. I've confronted it. I've changed it. Something bearable for me, but it'll be so much uglier for you.

Three.

Now it's my friend, but it's such a hideous friendship. We'll stab each other in the back before long, but I have better plans for it. Maybe you can see my strength, and I can oh-so-subtly pass it on.

Four.

You see me, I see you. You're just as shocked as I am because of what I've become. Finally, I rip my little friend from my back and pass it on to you.

Five.

Snap.

There, you got back your goddamned mess. I'm out of here.