Suffocating The Friendly Fire
“JUST BECAUSE I DON’T HAVE A VAGINA, DOESN’T MEAN I DON’T GET A SAY!” Frank screams as he launches himself to his feet and slams a tightly clenched fist into the table top.
Catherine stares at him with a twisted brow of confusion and smirks. “What the FUCK does not having a vagina have to do with what we’re talking about?”
“EVERYTHING!” he snarls.
As she crosses her arms her smile grows and she leans back in her seat. “Honey you’re gonna have to be a WHOLE lot clearer than EVERYTHING, because all I’m hearing right now is that you’re unhappy you don’t have a vagina,” she says as she leans forward. “And sugar, they have a operation that fix that,” she says, each of her words laced with sarcasm.
“Maybe I should, maybe if we both had a vagina you’d stop holding it above my FUCKING head and let me make some decisions around here!”
A stifled laugh escapes her lips as she raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “Are you FUCKING serious?”
“TOO FUCKING RIGHT I AM! EVER SINCE YOU OPENED YOUR LEGS YOU’VE HAD ME AT YOUR BECON WHIM! AND I’VE HAD ENOUGH! ENOUGH!” he screams as he punches the mirror, while her distorted images laughs hysterically.
The intricacies of my insanity 