was the one he despised the most, and that before he had married
her had spent the previous forty-three years of his life wopping
the tailpiece off with his eyes closed and quickly tossing it
into the waste basket then washing his hands three times in Borax
in the old sink in the cellar before returning to the kitchen to
cook his evening meal. Why was it then, that tonight of all
nights when she knew he was annoyed at her anyway since dinner
was so late getting on the table, that tonight she decided to
leave the disgusting portion on his piece, and not only that, to
plunk it down right in front of him with those sickening bowels
staring obscenely up at him just six inches from his nose? Yes, this was the last straw.