Flash Fiction: "Bite The Dust, My Darling"

Just in time for Valentine's Day, I present for your entertainment (not to be taken seriously in the least) this snarky little anti-love story, rescued from my "vault" of writings, that I composed who-knows-how-many years ago. I would've come up with something original or something better, but I stayed home from work today because I'm still sick, and I'm doing all I can just to function. So please cut me a wee bit of slack. Enjoy?


"Bite The Dust, My Darling"

She says to me, "You ain't worth a plug nickel. You ain't nothing, you ain't never been nothing, and you ain't never gonna be nothing."

I says to her, "Look who's talking! What've you ever done for anybody?"

And she says, "Plenty! I've done plenty!"

And I says, "Ha!"

And she says, "What's that supposed to mean?"

And I says, "Means just what it says. Ha!"

And she laughs at me, and I says, "What're you laughing at? I got something on my face?"

And she says, "Nothing out of the ordinary. But that don't mean it ain't funny to look at."

I says, "You know what you are?"

She says, "No, why don't you tell me?"

I says, "You're a shame and a disgrace, that's what you are."

And she says, "Now if that ain't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is!"

And I says to her, "Then you don't know what is. I never been nothing but good to you, and you treat me like this."

And she says to me, "This is treating me good? You don't come home when you ought to, you don't talk to me, you never show affection to me, and you call that treating me good?"

And I says, "I'm doing the best I can."

And she says, "Well, it ain't good enough. It ain't never been good enough, and it ain't ever gonna be good enough to make me happy with you."

And I says, "Why don' t you tell me how you really feel?"

And she says, "All right, I will. I want a divorce."

And I says, "Over my dead body. You said 'I do', now you're stuck with me."

And she says, "I don't think so. Forever don't mean forever."

And I says, "In what Bible did you read that?"

And she says, "Don't get all spiritual on me. I want you out."

And I says to her, "I got news for you. This is my house. Bought and paid for."

And she says, "But it's in my name, too. And I get it all if you pass."

And I says, "Who says I'm gonna pass so you can get it all?"

And she says, "Sometimes accidents happen, you know."

And I says, "What are you trying to say? You gonna kill me or something?"

And she says, "Maybe I am. What of it?"

And I says, "I've a great mind to sock you one right here and now."

And she says, "Not if I sock you first."

And I says, "You and what army?"

And she says, "Me and this here." And then she pulls out this knife, looks like a Bowie knife with a blade about eight inches long.

And I says, "What are you gonna do with that? Carve me up?"

And she says, "Don't make me have to."

And I says, "I ain't no chicken. Do it if you think you're woman enough."

And she says, "Dare me one more time, and I will."

And I says, "I double-dog-dare you to gut me one good time!"

And she does it. She shoves that Bowie knife right between my ribs. I can feel it puncture my lung. And then I don't feel nothing but fire and pain in my chest.

I know I must be bleeding from inside, but there ain't nothing I can do about it. And I'm lying there on the ground, bleeding like a stuck pig, and she comes up to me, stands over me and says, "Told you I would do it."

And I says, with my dying breath, "Well, that's one time you were right."