“I watched Finding Nemo the other day.”

“About time.  That thing’s been out for awhile.”

“No, I’d seen it before.  But this time I analyzed it.”
“Not this crap again.”
“Hear me out.  Why does Marlin love Nemo?”
“Don’t you have a paper to write?”
“Why does Marlin love Nemo?”
“…because he’s his son.  You heartless monster.”
“Yes.  That.  But also because Nemo symbolizes the past.”

I’ll never let anything happen to you…because you’re symbolic of the life I once had, and all that.

“…”

“Think about it.  Nemo and memories are all Marlin has left to cling to.  That’s part of the reason why Marlin’s so overprotective.”
“I’m following.  Can you make this quick?”
“Once Marlin loses his son, literally all he has left is the memories.”
“Okay…”
“So, as a writer, what do you do with a character who has only memory?”
“I don’t know.”
“You give him a friend with none.”
 

And he shall be my Squishy.

“Oooooh.”
“Cool, right?”
“Wait, why would you do that?”
“It’s called a character’s foil.”
“Like, ‘Curses, foiled again!’?”

MYAAAAAAAHH!!

 “Sometimes, yeah.  Not always.  In literature, a foil just brings out the qualities of another character by way of contrast.”

“Why is it called ‘foil’?”
“Jewelers used to back their jewels with foil to make them shine brighter.”
“You studying jewelry lately?”
“Only when it has to do with literature.”
“Or movies.”
“Same thing.  So, like, sometimes it’s a hero-villain relationship, like Batman’s dark order and the Joker’s colorful chaos.  But in Nemo, it’s just about how Marlin can’t let go of the past.  And he can’t find the strength to trust those around him.”
“Trust?”
“That’s what the movie’s all about, really.”
“How?”
“You said you didn’t have much time.”
“I don’t.  Tell me later.  Put it on your little blog or something.”
“K.”
“And get outside, would you?  You need some fresh air.”
“MYAAAAAAHH!!”