Stories For Saturday: In The (Reservoir) Dog House by Paul D. Brazill

Bonny is volcanic. She’s so angry that she can hardly speak but, unfortunately for me, hardly is the operative word. As she tries to scrub the blood stains from my best white shirt, she goes on and on about the meal she’d cooked the night before and how long it had taken her to cook it.

She keeps asking me over and over again if I want to live on burgers all my life and why, if I’m going to spend all of my time hanging around a dirty warehouse with a bunch of psychos that look like Blues Brothers rejects, I can’t at least pick up the phone and call to say I’ll be late home.

My head is hurting, my stomach is rumbling and I’m tired. Bonny is starting to sound like a duck quac- quack-quacking, so I turn on the radio hoping it isn’t more ‘Sounds of the Seventies,’ as I’ve really had my fill of that shit the last few days. The DJ’s monotone drone introduces some LA band destroying a Neil Diamond classic so I switch it off again.

Noticing that the heat from Bonny’s eruption has started to cool down, I present her with a bag containing the proceeds of my recent job. When she sees the rare coins in the bag, Bonny’s jaw drops so much you could scrape carpet fluff from it and she lets rip with a string of expletives, so strong that they would even make the young Eddy Murphy blush. Almost tearing off her nurse’s uniform, she runs toward me screaming like a banshee.

Afterwards, when I knowthat it’s safe, I suggest that maybe we could go out for something to eat? We could even try that Hawaiian burger joint that’s just opened up nearby? Hands on hips, Bonny laughs and says, okay as long as I promise not to wear that dumb Speed Racer t-shirt that makes me look like a nerd.

Anything you say, I reply and start to walk into the bathroom before stopping and saying that, shit, if the service in that restaurant is any good today, I might even leave a tip.

 The end.

In The (Reservoir) Dog House first appeared online at Powder Burn Flash. It is also included in the anthology Six Sentences vol 2 .

 

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One thought on “Stories For Saturday: In The (Reservoir) Dog House by Paul D. Brazill

  1. Brilliant. That’s brilliant coming from an American. Loved the young Eddy Murphy line, among others. My only nit, Blues Brothers rejects conjured up sympathetic figures to me ;o)

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