Bill and Margaret were a normal couple until the smallest incident, such as a misplaced key, set them off. Margaret was the first to launch as the medium-sized female let loose like an aircraft carrier full of drunken men spewing out expletives. Bill was quick to follow. However, Margaret was more imaginative in her choice of “stress adjectives.” While Bill lumped up the standard 7 swear words and bellowed them out in random and repeating order, Margaret would form colorful phrases of disdain and criticisms and vocalize them into a very condemning short story. It was an unusual talent that people who witnessed their squabbles commented on. On one occasion, garbage bags became the blasting cap for an explosive exchange of anger when Bob attempted to throw out a plastic garbage bag that was 3/4 full. Never mind that Bob was going to take it around the house to unload the contents of 3 smaller cans in the bedrooms, Margaret only saw a 3/4 full bag by the back door and commented viciously, “what Jackass dumbfuck that didn’t get past 2nd grade would dispose of a garbage bag that wasn’t fuckin’ full? Evidently his ugly, stupid mother sported alcohol in her tits and breast fed the retard until he was 8.” Bob’s response was, “fuckin’ bitch, I ain’t done yet.” Margaret’s rapid reply was, “of course you’re not done yet, your silly, smelly ass lacks enough intelligence to finish the word: “a.” MORON! Where did you spend your youth? In a barnyard? Sucking the mud off of a pig’s curly cock and forming mud meatballs on your chin. Damn! You make ignorant people look like geniuses.” Bob resounded with, “fuckin’ cunt, fuckin’, fuck-fuck.” The garbage bag was filled, taken outside and disposed of in the trash can. Harmony was restored, and life went on for years, erupting into arguments on every occasion where things didn’t go right. One spring day, Margaret died. Bob cried for weeks and pined to death 8 miserable months later. Humans are a strange lot.
Torked Truth 