SHOULD HAVE SAID:
Sure, yes, thanks, I do have one question. How do you sleep at night? No, seriously, I’d like to know, because sometimes when I do something completely heartless I find it difficult to sleep, so I just thought for future reference a complete and total bastard like you might have some input. So, what, prescription sleeping pills? A gallon of vermouth? What, do you have a really expensive, extra fluffy, goose down pillow that you bought with your GOD DAMN EXECUTIVE SALARY, YOU CHEAP ASS, PENNY ANTE, HITLER?!
SAID:
Will I qualify for unemployment?
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
That’s interesting because I think it’s the ‘us not having sex’ part that’s endangering our friendship.
SAID:
Okay. Sorry.
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
No, no, let me thank you, because now if someone presses a pistol to my head and says "Tell me the worst customer service you’ve ever had or I’ll blow your god damn brain out" I’ll know what to say!
SAID:
Yes, I’ll hold.
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
Sure I can park my car here. See? My car isn’t moving. It’s about a foot from the curb. That’s pretty much parking, isn’t it? I mean, I’m not a dictionary or anything, but I think that’s a good definition of parking for right off the top of my head.
SAID:
I’ll move it right now, officer.
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
That’s nice, but you know what? If I hear one more instant of the minute tediata of your life, as God is my witness I’m going to tear out one of my own eyes, get a coffee stirrer and poke out my frontal lobe. I mean, sweet weeping Jesus, did your mother act interested a lot when you were a kid? Because she did you and the whole rest of the world a hell of a disservice. I have half a mind to hunt her down and beat her brain in. What’s her address?
SAID:
I hear you.
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
Yes, madam, but when I awake I shall be sober, while you will STILL BE TROTTING ABOUT LIKE SOME GOD FORSAKEN EXPERIMENT IN A GERMAN SCIENCE FICTION FILM!
SAID:
Okay. Sorry.
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
You know who you remind me of sometimes? Hitler.
SAID:
Thanks.
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
I think it’s really admirable the way all those news stories about folks coming back into work and killing a lot of people don’t seem to scare you at all. I mean, if you’ve got Kevlar under that suit, I can’t even see the outline. Honestly, Kudos to your tailor.
SAID:
What’s the name of that program where I pay all the premiums but you still have to keep me on the health plan?
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
No, no, absolutely, whatever you recommend, state of the art; because the top two things on my wish list are #1.) Get the old teeth in tip-top shape no matter how many crowns, caps, or bridges I need, and #2.) FINANCE YOUR GOD DAMN PRIVATE HOME IN THE BAHAMAS, YOU HAIRY HANDED, SADISTIC, SON OF A BITCH!
SAID:
When you say ‘bite collapse’, what is that exactly?
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
Can you do me one small favor? When you die can you locate a psychic medium and let me know what it’s like in Hell? See, the wife and I have this longstanding argument, discussion, really, we use it to distract ourselves from the children’s cries of hunger. She thinks, listen, I think you’ll get a kick out of this, she thinks Hell is an actual lake of fire, but infinite, and the sinner feels exactly what it would be like to burn in it, but he never dies and his flesh is never consumed. I say the sinner is just forced to feel the awful things they’ve done to other people in their lives, you know, actually experience the emotions of the people they hurt and that this brute empathy would go on eternally. And maybe it’s me, but I think that would be worse than burning.
DID SAY:
Can I keep my nameplate as a souvenir?
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
What if we did this instead; I’ll unbutton my shirt, You take your utility knife and just drag it straight down my chest, and then take a cold chisel, or whatever, I don’t know, that’s more in your line, whatever you think is best to crack open a human chest; get your huge, callused, meathook hands into the wound and split me open like a friggin’ lobster tail, pull out my HEART AND DANCE ON THE DAMN THING!
SAID:
Well, it’s not like we can just let the roof keep leaking, right?
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
You’re probably right. I mean in a robust economy like this, why offer an installment plan? I personally have so much money coming out of my ass right now, my pants keep bursting. No, seriously, I sit down to dinner and I bash my damn head on the ceiling before I get the first forkful in! Look! Look! Isn’t amazing how much money is just COMING OUT OF MY ASS?!?
SAID:
I’ll get my credit card.
SHOULD HAVE SAID:
What, that? Think nothing of it, it’s a purely physical reaction we humans sometimes have when something tragic occurs, oh yes, you know, like the loss of a job or the decision that maybe clothes and food are more important than owning your own home. Children will sometimes do this when their peers taunt them on the playground because of their tattered, second hand clothes. It’s just a bio chemical response to the shattering of dreams. The Crocodile is said to cry, but that, as you know, is something entirely different.
SAID:
Tree pollen.
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