Something's Fishy

“Don't, Margret!”

“It’s too late, John.”

“But–!”

“I said, it’s too late.”

“And I say don’t you dare. It’s too late when I say it’s too late!”

“Be reasonable John, please, honey. Just, oh, stop pacing, would you?”

“You don’t trust me?! A marriage is built on trust you know.”

“I– dammit, John, it’s not about trust.”

“Then what’s this about, huh?”

“It’s rotten, the whole thing. There’s no saving it.”

“That’s not–!”

“It is true! You’re just too stubborn and prideful to admit it!”

“I’m not prideful!”

“Oh but you are stubborn, then?”

“Don’t be cheeky! You’re the stubborn one, keep insisting you’re right when you’re wrong. There is saving it, just let me–”

“There’s no point, John. It’s beyond that. All you’ll do is make us sick.”

“Even after all this time, you would really do this? Twenty years!”

“Yes, I know how long we’ve been married.”

“Don’t you take that tone!”

“What tone, exactly?”

“That tone, that exasperated, John is being dense and I’m so smart tone!”

“I don’t have a–”

“You do! And an– yes, like that! That expression right there! When you rub the bridge of your nose like I’m giving you a headache.”

“Are you claiming to not be giving me a headache right now?”

“Oh, you–! Ungrateful woman, with all I do around here, and you have the gall to throw away–”

“All you do around here? All you do?! You wouldn’t know where a single thing was if it wasn’t for me picking up all your trash! I go to work, come home, and then have to deal with your mess! So yes, I’m throwing this away. Why keep it?!” 

“You have no damn respect for me.”

“God, John. Why– why do you do this? And– could you please stop pacing?”

“You don’t tell me what to do.”

“No of course not, I wouldn’t dream of it! Especially not when you act like a child.”

“No need to be all snarky, Margret.”

“There’s clearly a need when you’re being dense. Seriously, John. This truly isn’t that difficult. Even Ben would agree it’s time!”

“Don’t you bring up the neighbour, he has no place in this!”

“You don’t be ridiculous. He does this too! You’re not special, John.”

“And why are you bringing him up now? Would you rather he–”

“Oh, stop being ridiculous now.”

“You’re the one who brought him up!”

“As an example of a fellow man who–”

“Again with that tone!”

“I’m not the enemy here, John! This is what’s best for everyone! Why can’t you see that? Why are you being so stubborn and not letting yourself see how absurd you’re being?”

“Who’s everyone?! Clearly not me, since you’re not considering my feelings!”

“Like you ever consider mine?! No, no. We’re getting off-topic.” 

“I’ll take care of–”

“You keep saying you’ll do this, you’ll do that. You never do. I’m taking this into my own hands, now.”

“Don’t be so dramatic!”

“Don’t be so dramatic! Ha! Says the man having a tantrum over me wanting to throw out a damn fish. It’s already gone bad! It smells! It belongs in the trash.”

“Wait–! No! Dammit, woman. I told you it was still good!”

“Don’t you woman me, man! Go catch another one!”

“It was the largest bass I’ve ever caught!”

“Then you should’ve cooked the damn thing like you said you were going to two weeks ago instead of letting it rot!”

“You–!! Ohh, I’d slam this door if it wasn’t me who’d have to fix the damn thing.”

“What a bull-headed, brick-wall, stubborn ox of a man-!! Ahh, breathe, Margret. It’s whatever. It’s all fine. At least he’s gone for the day. Might even be able to… Oh, perfect timing. It’s like he can read my mind. Ben, is that you? Back door’s open!”

“Hey, Marge. I saw your husband leave all fuming and muttering to himself. Everything alright?”

“Yes, yes, don’t worry, just another stupid argument. I swear the man likes fighting – all I wanted to do was throw out a damn rotten fish!”

“Was it that prized bass he caught? The one he was bragging all about to our fishing buddies at the kids’ soccer match last week?”

“The one and only. Christ almighty, you’d think if he liked it so much he would’ve done something about it instead of leaving it in the fridge wrapped in a plastic bag– as if that’d save it! The smell had me gagging every time I opened the fridge! The only reason I didn’t throw it out sooner was I knew exactly this would happen. God…”

“You seem pretty tense, Marge. How about I… help you out with that?”

“Oh, you always know the perfect thing to say to cheer me up. Come here.”

“God, yes please.”

“Mmm, someone’s eager.”

“I know you’re teasing, but you’re not the only one who needs a little cheering up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“Your wife?”

“Ha, isn’t it always these days? Honestly, Cherry probably wouldn’t notice if I went missing. Barely pays any attention to me when she's home, it's either work or the television. She even forgot to pick the boys up from soccer practice yesterday, said later that she got too busy at the office.”

“We sure did pick gems to marry, didn't we?”

“Such gems. Alas, hindsight and all that.”

“Well, I think I know exactly how to improve our moods.”

“Mmmm, you always have such good ideas. When will John be back?”

“Six at the earliest. Trust me, the only thing that’ll draw him away from his precious lake sooner is the apocalypse. The kids?”

“At their grandparents. Probably getting high on those caramel candies my mother has barrels of... I swear she has stock in Werther's. Yours?”

“Sleeping over at their cousin’s. Probably getting high on the soda I don’t let them drink. But at least their sugar high isn’t my problem tonight.” 

“No, it isn’t. You've got other... priorities.” 

“Mhmmm…. Cherry?”

“Hair appointment, then nails. Won’t be done until seven.” 

“Perfect.”

“God, do you know how much I love that smile?”

“I do. Now Ben?

“Yes?"

“Shut up and kiss me.”

“My pleasure.” 

Fin.