Cindy puts the last touches on the marathon cleaning and the house was now sparkling. No reason for John to bitch at her this time.
Something crashes in the other room and Cindy stares in horror as John, in the pantry, sweeps shelf after shelf onto the floor. Stuff rolls everywhere, glass shatters, contents splattering the recently cleaned and waxed floor and walls.
“Where are the damn batteries?”
“Stop John! Why didn’t you just ask?”
“Ok bitch, where are the damn batteries?”
Cindy picks up the jar of batteries sitting clearly out in the open on the kitchen table and turns around and brings it down hard on John’s head. “Here are your damn batteries, sweetheart!”