Mr. and Mrs. Feeney

"Archibald," said Mrs. Feeney, "why on earth are you standing over me with an ax?"

"Well my dear, I was planning to splatter your brains all over the room," replied Mr. Feeney.

"Archibald, you moronic baboon! That's not how to do it! You need strength to use an ax. You probably couldn't chop a toothpick with those spindly arms of yours. Use a gun."

"Well my dear," replied Mr. Feeney, "that's a bit of a problem. I haven't got one."

"Archibald, you insidious canker on the butt of mankind! Here," said Mrs. Feeney as she took a gun out of her purse, "take mine. But next time get your own."

"Yes, and thank you my dear," replied Mr. Feeney as he took the gun and aimed it at his wife.

"Archibald, you twit from the pits of hell, what about the blood," said Mrs. Feeney.

"Oh, I hadn't thought about that," replied Mr. Feeney.

"Must I think of everything?" said Mrs. Feeney. "I don't want my furniture ruined. Take me to the basement."

"Yes dear," replied Mr. Feeney.

After going downstairs and once again aiming the gun at his beloved's head, Mr. Feeney was interrupted yet again.

"Archibald, you festering heap of pus," said Mrs. Feeney. "You need to put a tarp on the floor. That way you can wrap me up on it to carry me out of the house."

"Carry you out of the house?" replied Mr. Feeney. I hadn't thought of that. Why would I want to? We've always been so happy here."

Mrs. Feeney put her hands on her hips and sighed. "What do you intend to do with me after I'm dead? You can't leave me here. I'll start to smell. The neighbors will talk. And you know how much I hate gossip."

"Why yes, my dear," replied Mr. Feeney. "Then I'll certainly have to do as you say." Mr. Feeney paused before looking sheepishly at his wife.

Mrs. Feeney rolled her eyes. "Archibald, you nimrod monkey-butt, don't tell me you have no idea what to do next!"

Mr. Feeney took his sweetheart's hands in his. "My dear, it's just that you've always been the one to come up with these things. After all, I wouldn't have thought of any of this without you."

"Be sure to remember that when I’m gone," said Mrs. Feeney. "I'd say the Semloh Swamps should do quite nicely to dispose of my body. And don't forget to bring some rope so that you can tie me to something heavy to weigh me down."

"Oh thank you, thank you my dear," replied Mr. Feeney.

"Archibald, you bloated sack of sheep guts!" said Mrs. Feeney. "You've forgotten the most important part!"

"I have, my dear?" replied Mr. Feeney.

"Oh what an unending burden you are to me, Archibald. When I think of all the men I could have married. Men who wouldn't have needed a lick of help with any of this," said Mrs. Feeney. "Mother was right. I shouldn't have married you!"

"But what have I forgotten, my dear?" replied Mr. Feeney.

"Archibald, you malodorous donkey!" said Mrs. Feeney. "You forgot the bullets!"

"Oh yes, my dear," replied Mr. Feeney. "I certainly did forget them."

"Here," said Mrs. Feeney, "I have some in my bra. Will one do, or do you plan to kill me gangland style?"

"One should do my dear," replied Mr. Feeney, "but maybe you better give me another in case I miss."

"In case you miss?" said Mrs. Feeney. "Oh how inconsiderate of you, Archibald! I finally get the chance not to be ashamed of you, and you ruin it for me!"

"Now, now my dear," replied Mr. Feeney. "I'll do my best. Is there anything else?"

"Yes Archibald," said Mrs. Feeney.

"And what would that be, my dear?" replied Mr. Feeney.

"Don't forget to feed the cat."