Jim stared at his wife's car in the driveway. His head throbbed. Ideas careened around his skull like marbles in a pinball machine. He needed a minute to gather his thoughts.
Karla's reaction was, given the circumstances, completely understandable.
"What. The. Actual. FUCK???”
The bumper was gone. The back seat was full of empty bottles. A lacy bra peeked out from underneath the passenger seat. The ashtray was inexplicably crammed with cocktail weenies.
Jim opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again. Karla stared at him. Jim prayed that a lucid, reasonable explanation would magically appear.
No such luck.
Karla's reaction was, given the circumstances, completely understandable.
"What. The. Actual. FUCK???”
The bumper was gone. The back seat was full of empty bottles. A lacy bra peeked out from underneath the passenger seat. The ashtray was inexplicably crammed with cocktail weenies.
Jim opened his mouth, paused, and closed it again. Karla stared at him. Jim prayed that a lucid, reasonable explanation would magically appear.
No such luck.
