Silent Treatment

city-cars-road-lights

By His Royal Heinous

Interior: Car, nighttime.

Her:
Arms crossed, silent.

Him:
Don’t even try to guilt trip me …

Her:

Him:
You know, if I don’t feel guilty, then it’s just silence — which is actually kinda nice for a change.

Her:
Death stare.

Exterior: flashing lights

Him:
Shit! Cops.
Pulls over.

Him:
There a problem officer?

Cop:
You tell me. I clocked you doing 80 in a 55.
(Sees “Her” crying in passenger seat.)
Ma’am are you okay?

Him:
She’s giving me the silent treatment.

Cop:
That so?

Him:
Yep.
(Shrugs, shakes head, winks at cop.)
Women …

 Cop:
(Says nothing, hands “Him” ticket, walks away.)

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3 thoughts on “Silent Treatment

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