The Woman came home from an early morning meeting. Nothing out of the ordinary to report. She was very unsuspecting as she placed her key in the front door. She was doing what most humans do these days – staring at her phone, trying to catch up on everything she had missed on social media and the news (which was nothing, as usual). Still staring at her phone, she turned the nob and stepped into her house. She made it approximately three steps in, still staring at her screen, before she paused.
Something felt different. She could sense an uneasiness around her. It was getting stronger. She looked up and scanned the room. Something wasn’t right. There had been a struggle. The couch pillows were on the floor. A book had been moved from the coffee table. A picture frame was moved. A vase was on its side. A struggle was evident, but something was off. Woman continued to slowly walk further into the depths of what was appearing to be a very peculiar war zone. She made her way into the kitchen, and the pattern continued and escalated. There was a rolled-up magazine on the floor. Papers were strewn about. Random items were misplaced or toppled over. The kitchen counter was in disarray. She plunged further into the house until she reached the bedroom.
The door was closed.
She could hear something.
Strange sounds. Subtle at first, but they began getting louder and louder. She could hear things falling over. Crashes, banging, then…words?
“AAAAAAAAAAH!!!! GET BACK HERE YOU MURRTTHHHERFLKNGFLY. DIE! DIE! DIEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!”
Neighbor Nate’s voice resonated throughout the house, and The Woman burst into the bedroom, prepared to encounter the worst. As she toppled through the doorway, she screeched to a halt as her eyes landed on Neighbor Nate. She stopped and stared. Her eyes widened, and her head tilted slightly to the left as she tried to interpret the scene before her.
Neighbor Nate, still spouting war cries, was clutching a rolled-up magazine with both hands. He was in a battle stance, feet a little more than shoulder width apart, knees slightly bent, obviously for optimal balance. He was ferociously and violently swinging the magazine above his head and crashing it down onto the dresser.
“I!!! AM!!! VIC-TOR-I-OUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUS!!!” Each syllable was emphasized by the magazine crashing against the dresser.
Neighbor Nate had not noticed The Woman enter. He continued to repeatedly beat the dresser with the magazine. The Woman allowed her eyes to wander from Neighbor Nate, and she began to soak in the scene before her. The lamp was knocked over. The blinds were disheveled. The sheets and blankets had been ripped off the bed and thrown in seemingly random places. Everything that had been on the dresser was now on the floor. There was a shoeprint on the wall, which she assumed was either from Neighbor Nate kicking at the wall, or a shoe being thrown.
Neighbor Nate finally mercifully stopped beating the dresser, threw his hands up in the air, and declared “YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME!!!”
His robe had come untied, and it fluttered like a cape as he turned and marched towards the door. He noticed The Woman for the first time.
“Oh, hi honey, how was work?”
He calmly tied his robe as he posed his question, “do you want some coffee?”
Not waiting for an answer, he gave her a kiss, and walked out the door towards the kitchen.
Still stunned, The Woman remained where she was, still trying to figure out exactly what she had just witnessed. She carefully walked over to the dresser Neighbor Nate had been beating. She didn’t notice it at first, but as she looked closely, she began to piece together the reality of the madness.
She saw a smudge. Black, with a little red. It was smeared over a few square inches of the dresser. There were a few tiny black chunks that had not been smashed to smithereens.
She made her way to the kitchen where Neighbor Nate was making the coffee. He smiled at her when she walked in, but said nothing. She waited for some sort of explanation of the house looking like a tornado has swept through it, or of the beating the dresser had just endured, but Neighbor Nate remained silent. The rolled-up magazine was carefully tucked in the pocket of his robe. There was a familiar looking smudge near the top edge. Black, with a little red. The Woman couldn’t take the silence any longer.
“Work was good, babe, what did you do today?” She calmly asked.
“Oh, not much. I killed a fly.”