ME: “Okay look. There’s something I’ve gotta tell you, and I don’t think you’re going to like it.”


ME: “Every day now, for nearly two years, all you do is sit there and stare at me. You make those little gurgling noises and frankly, you smell like shit.”


ME: “I swear this has to be the millionth time we’ve had this conversation. I tell you what’s wrong, like how we’re not as intimate as we used to be, which, by the way, is getting so fucking old, and all you do is make that idiotic fuck-dumb gargle. Is any of this even getting through to you? ANSWER ME!”


ME: “You see? You’re doing it right now! Fucking stop it! I swear to CHRIST! I’m going to count to ten, and if you don’t say something, I’m punching you in the goddamn neck!”

(gurgle gurgle)

ME: “Nine, ten! That’s it!”


ME: “Motherfucker! Oh that is just absolutely fucking beautiful! You start a goddamned fight with me, break my fucking hand, and you just sit there! I’m going to the hospital, again, thank you very fucking much, and when I get back, it’s so over!”

Silence, followed by a loud gurgling noise

ME: “Oh, fuck you, you ingrate!”

Sound of door slamming and car accelerating.


Sound of angry mumbling followed by the garage door being opened.

Sound of car squealing out of driveway.

(at the hospital)

DOCTOR: “Ah, Mr. Schroeder?”

ME: “Yes?”

DOC: “I’d like a word with you, if I may.”

ME: “Sure. And look, this wasn’t really my fault. My girlfriend, you know…”

DOC: “Actually, that’s exactly what I wanted to discuss with you. I’ve been observing you since you were admitted, and I was on duty the last, I don’t know, four or five times you were here, and something is troubling me.”

ME: “If it’s about my girlfriend, dude, I totally get it. I’m so dumping that bitch when I get home.”

DOC: “Well, it is somewhat related to that. You see, Mr. Schroeder, I don’t think your girlfriend was responsible for-”

ME: “Okay, I get where you’re going with this. I may have been yelling at her, and then I may have tried to hit her, but sh-”

DOC: “About your ‘girlfriend’, is she-”

ME: “Yeah, totally, she’s a fuckin’ bi-”

DOC: “No, I mean, is she-”

ME: “Kind of dumb? Exac-”

DOC: “NO. Is sh-”

ME: “You know, man, you totally get me. I wish my girl-”


ME (meekly): “Yes?”

DOC: “Does your girlfriend stand about yea high?” (makes gesture)

ME: “Yeah.”

DOC: “And is she somewhat pale in complexion?”

ME, surprised: “Yeah! How did you-”

DOC, waving his hand impatiently: “And does she also have a distinct odor, perhaps like excrement?”

ME: “Excre… Exc-”

DOC (angrily): “Like feces, Mr. Schroeder. Does your girlfriend smell like feces?”

ME: “Fuck yeah! I always-”

DOC, cutting me off: “Mr. Schroeder, is your girlfriend a toilet?”

ME: “Um. Well, no. I mean, I don't think… What the fuck is that?” (pointing in to the distance behind the doctor)

DOC: “What? I don’t see anyth-”

ME: “A HA!”

DOC, crumpling to the floor, gagging from a manly neck punch: “Gah! Hrgglssh…”

Sound of shoes slapping and the victorious yell of a hero returning home to his beloved.