Sarcasm Central

Wedded Hell

For fun, I decided to join in on a lil contest that I found at LW Patrick’s blog which was reblogged from this blog, Gabi Daniels.  I know I’ve pretty much broken all the rules. Opps.  I guess that’s how I roll.  I can’t be boxed in!  haha.  Anyway, the idea was to write about a fight to the death with your favorite characters and even though this isn’t two characters from popular fiction, this idea came to mind and I went with it and let it take me where it would and it made me laugh to write.  If you’re married I’m sure you know what I mean.  Read on….

“You know how much I hate you, right?” she stated with venom, staring at him from across the kitchen island. The counter was strewn with dishes, crumpled paper towels, silverware and a dirty cutting board, the tomatoes and onions from last night’s taco dinner dried and stuck to the surface.

“Well, the feeling is entirely mutual. I hate you with all my heart right now.” His eyes lowered into deadly slits as he surveyed her with disgust.

“Don’t look at me that way, you lousy fucker, we are in hate. I can’t believe I ever loved you at all,” she replied, glaring at him. All she wanted to do was scream with frustration and sweep everything on the counter on to the floor with her arms in a mad rush of pissed off fireball, scattering crumbs and breaking dishes. She had never been so angry. She could beat him right now, smash in that dark handsome face, break the cutting board over his head.

“You know how you left your towel on the floor yesterday morning? I wanted to strangle the living breath out of you when I saw that, I wanted to do it with your long wet hair,” he said with a growl, moving around the counter in her direction, fists clenched on the counter top.

“You stay away from me, just because you’re bigger doesn’t mean you will automatically win a fight. I’m not above going for the sucker punch or a good swift kick in your junk. God help me if I ever want children.”

“You always were a dirty fighter, you bitch.” He grinned, eyes flashing at this comment, stalking her around the edge of the counter. She retreated, first feinting left and then finally right as he did the same. They were at a stale mate.

“Remember when you refused to take out the trash and it started to over flow and stink like hell, that was your fault. I was so angry I could scream,” she said with howl.

“Don’t act like you’re a princess, remember how you didn’t load the dishwasher for days on end. Look at this goddamned kitchen right now. What kind of woman are you?”

She jerked at this comment, suddenly rigid with anger, throwing her gaze to meet his, “How fucking dare you! This isn’t the 1950’s and I am not your housewife. Remember how I have a job too? You can load the dishwasher just as easily as I can. You do have arms right?”

“I have arms and I’ll use them to beat the shit out of you, my loving wife.”

“Fuck you, I have arms too and I’ll gouge out your eyes. I might even use that dirty cheese grater on the counter and take it to your balls. Think about that, you fuck.”

“Stop swearing. God you have a dirty mouth.”

“You didn’t complain last night about this dirty mouth.” She showed him a flirtatious smile, leaning over the counter so her breasts were visible in her low cut tank top.

“It doesn’t mean I don’t hate you. Stop trying to distract me. I’ll beat you senseless with my cock,” he said, stalking left again as she went right.

“You know if you helped out around this house more often, I might have more time to be in the mood to use this dirty mouth on you, you big fuck,” she said with a leer, picking up the cheese grater as she skidded around the edge of the island and he lunged for her. She slipped through his grip and was around the other side of the counter now, panting a bit from the exertion, chest heaving. “This would make a nice medieval torture device wouldn’t it? Take a little skin off…”

“Stop threatening me woman, see that big filthy knife right there, I’m not opposed to eating woman stew for dinner tonight.”

“Well, I’m not opposed to lacing your dinner with laxative, or maybe I’ll put some hot sauce on you cock and balls, yes that sounds nice and painful.”

“You keep threatening and I don’t see any action.”

She lunged around the counter in his direction, cheese grater in hand like a sword, ready to do battle with the guy who refused to take his laundry from the dryer when it was finished.

“Fuck you!” she yelled, whapping him on the shoulder with the cheese grater as she whirled by him, just evading his fingers a second time.

“Get over here.” He lunged again for her, spinning around the edge of the counter on the tile, almost face planting on the floor. He righted himself, eyes blazing now with ferocity. “You’re gonna pay for that, just like you’re gonna pay for the fact that you refuse to change the toilet paper when it gets to the end.”

“Maybe I should make you pay for the fact that you have never, once, in all the time we’ve been married, cleaned the bathroom, you lazy jackass,” she said with a scream at the word jackass, as he crouched and then really came after her now, fast and she ran into the living room and then back through the dining room and he was in hot pursuit, fingers reaching out, almost grabbing her.

They finally collided against the kitchen wall, his body tight against hers and she whipped her hands up, pushing one hard against his chest, pulling one arm back to slap him across the face. But he was faster, encircling both wrists in his hands and pulling her arms down to her sides.

“Nah uh,” he said with a grin, face leeringly close to hers, out of breath.

“Get off me, I hate you. Why won’t you just pick up your dirty socks from the couch? Why can’t you put away your laundry? Why do you have to sleep in a triangle in the bed and leave me no room?”

“Why can’t you just stop nagging me? Why can’t you shovel some fucking snow now and then instead of leaving it to me while you sit inside reading a novel? God I hate you,” he said, squeezing her wrists, leaning against her, pushing her into the wall. She tried to slow her breathing and then struggled to get out of his grasp, but he was stronger. She brought her knee up and he jerked left, her knee hitting his thigh.

“See how I know all your tricks, my dear, beautiful wife?” he said with a sneer and she struggled harder and his arms encircled her completely, holding her arms down and now they were smashed together, thigh to chest. He looked down at her, eyes on fire with rage. He growled.

“God I fucking love you, you sexy beautiful woman,” he said and as he released her hands, she slid them up and around his neck, jumping up in one motion,wrapping her legs around his waist as their mouths came together, hard, slanting, tongues tangling. Her heart was throbbing and so was his. He wrapped his arms around her middle and carried her to the living room.

She broke away for a moment to murmur roughly in his ear, “We’re still in hate. I still hate you with everything I am because you won’t change the sheets and refuse to use the vacuum.”

“I know, I hate you too because you leave the sliver of soap in the shower, now shut up,” he said throwing her down onto the couch, dropping on top of her, razing her mouth with his, with hate, with love, with wedded hell.

Drunk Boyfriend
The Breakup
We’re in Love, We’re in Hate

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About Victoria Sawyer (282 Articles)
Victoria Sawyer is a blogger, author, aspiring graphic designer, social media enthusiast and mental health advocate. Shocking, honest, sarcastic and humorous, Victoria aims to make readers feel tangible emotions and physical sensations through writing that brings you into the mind and body of someone suffering from panic attacks, anxiety and this strange often darkly hilarious thing we call life. She published her novel Angst in 2013, which realistically and often graphically depicts life with mental illness. Along with crazy blogging, Victoria enjoys reading historical novels, playing with her naughty cats, engaging in rants and metaphysical existential meltdowns and using punctuation to excess in everything she writes.

7 Comments on Wedded Hell

  1. Ahaha, that was awesome! It really captures the Jekyll and Hyde nature of marriage where one second you’re pushed over the edge, and then the second moment, that anger turns into furious passion. I don’t know what it is about make up sex…but it’s something else completely wild. I guess it’s cause emotions are running high.

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    • P.S. make sure you post that on Gabi Daniel’s page to get entered in to win! Cheers!

      Like

      • I did! I told her I completely broke the rules, but that I appreciated the inspiration to try something fun. You are so right, being married is weird. You can be hating on each other one second and then passionately in love the next. My hubs can always get me laughing even when I’m super pissed off over, literally this same kind of stuff. Ahhh..relationships!

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  2. That was brilliant, even unmarried i can still relate.

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  3. Victoria, you shock me and make me laugh at the same time. Love it!

    Like

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