Ninja Weasle & the Blanket of Infinite Doom

It was like watching a nature documentary, without that annoying British guy narrating. 'It' was Ninja, being spectacularly shot down by Tracy Gruber.
It was slightly pathetic. A lot like watching an annoying puppy get kicked. Its sad, but you've often felt like doing it yourself.

"Um, Tracy?" (not the best start)
"Yeah?" She glanced at him and went back to her burger.
"Um, I was wondering, you know, if, like, like you had time, or if you'd want to, you know..." (oh lord)
"No,Poindexter, I don't know. I don't even think you know." She took out a compact and started scrutinising her hair from various angles.
"Hahehaha..." The Blanket cut Ninja's nervous laughathon off with a sharp cough. "Oh? Oh. Um, yeah, well, I was wondering if you might like to go out sometime. With me. Together. You know, like... like a d-d-d-date." He cringed like he was about to be beaten about the head with a magically appearing, disembodied baguette. Tracy turned and stared at him.
The Blanket held his breath. For some reason the emotional well-being of his tiny mammal friend was important to him, despite the abscence of any sincere thoughts for The Blanket on Ninja's behalf.
Tracy stared a little more. The Blanket wondered if she was in shock or if this was just her natural processing speed.
"Ok. I'll say this once and once only, Geek boy. If you and I were the last humans on the earth planet and you'd discovered shampoo and breath mints I would still say fuck off. Loser." She turned back to her lunch, which The Blanket now ferverently praying would give her cellulite up to wazoo. But he had mre serious problems than finding a way to convince his God to afflict some chicks ass. He had to go find Ninja. Who had done a 30 second mile getting out of the cafe.
The Blanket sighed, picked up his books and followed at a much slower pace. "God, why didn't you grant me better friends? What did I ever do to you?" He whispered.

"I'm not coming out."
"You have class in an hour..."
"In an hour I'll be dead."
"Ninja..."
"NO! I'm going to slash my wrists."
"Your in a university toilet. What are you going to use? Alcohol abuse pamplets? Death by a thousand paper cuts?"
"This is not funny."
Actually, it was. "I know. But its her loss and..."
The Blanket was cut off by a loud wail, like hearing a pre-pubescent sea lion singing Celine Dion. He sighed. This was going to take a while.
And if Ninja didn't come out soon, he only had two options.
1. Leave him in the blasted toilet to sulk and go to their Anthropology class alone, at which point Gina woudld descend on him like a hawk in heavy make-up.

or

2. Kill himself. At least then he'd get some quiet. And hell, how bad could death be? Compared to Ninja, death might be a resort holiday with coconut drinks with umbrellas in them.

"It just hurts so much. I can't breath, Blanket, I feel like I can't breath!"

The Blanket sighed again. It was becoming his hobby. "Ninja, firstly, that is a line from Buffy. And secondly, if your going to die over a girl, can you make it one who isn't a gum popping skank?"
The stall door crashed open and Ninja launched himself out at The Blanket like a little hairy, tear soaked missile. Unfortunatly, for Ninja at least, he misjudged The Blanket's possition and crashed into a hand basin. The Blanket bent over him, as he altered between sobbing and moaning loudly. "I'll call an ambulance."
The drive to the hospital was uneventful, unless you count Ninja asking for a scalpel to dig his heart out with from the ambo. The waiting room lived up to its name, being that the two of them waited for nearly two hours before they got an examination room all of their own. And a nurse that gave Angelina Jolie a run for her money.
As the Blanket sat in the hall he heard, faintly the words "Um, I was wondering, you know, if, like, like you had time, or if you'd want to, you know..."