Mr and Mrs Dúr are chewing their first bites of dinner. Mrs Dúr swallows tough bread and asks, “How was your day?”
“That Jim Knightly is an annoying piece of shit,” Mr Dúr spits. “Do you know why he’s an annoying piece of shit? That piece of shit always finds a way to get to the bakery before me. No matter how early I get up and get there, he’s there before me. It’s like he knows when I’m leaving every goddamn morning! How does he do it? Does he hide in the bushes? Did he sneak cameras into our house somehow?”
Mr Dúr wags his dirt-encrusted finger at his wife. “And he always gets the last cheese danish, that son-of-a-bitch. I could show up as they unlock the doors and I bet he’d be inside already and in line, force-feeding me that shit-eating grin of his.
“All I wanted was a goddamn cheese danish today and he took the last two. Two! He bought two danishes! The nerve of that greedy fuckloaf. His gluttony knows no bounds.” Mr Dúr expectorates as his voice becomes shrill.
“Other people want cheese danishes in the morning!” Mr Dúr slams the table, spilling Mrs Dúr’s beverage. “He’s not the only person in the world! They only make six danishes in the morning and then when they run out I have to wait fifteen minutes for the next batch. FIFTEEN MINUTES! I have to get to my JOB, Jim, you son-of-a-bitch. We work at the same damn shop! He knows when we have to be at work!
Mr Dúr gulps and slams his beer on the table. “You know, he didn’t even show up to the shop today until after lunch?! And they just let him do it. Jim-fucking-Knightly gets to do whatever he wants, I suppose! They think he’s a fucking genius or something. Ridiculous. That shitbag doesn’t even know my name, he always calls me ‘Bob,’ or ‘Steve,’ or ‘Joe.’ My name is Larry, you asshole! Larry-fucking-Dúr, you prick!”
Mr Dúr wipes his filth and anger off on his napkin and steadies his breathing. “I’m sorry sweetheart, I just had to get that off my chest. How was your day? Do anything fun?”
“I had a lovely cheese danish today,” Mrs Dúr replies.