Cheryl: Care for some wine?
Cindy: I don’t do wine.
Cheryl: A gin maybe? I have the good tonic.
Cindy: Hmm…
Cheryl: While I’m going to have some of the Merlot.
Cindy: Uh…do you have any Cheez Whiz?
Cheryl: Um maybe, why?
Cindy: I’d like some.
Cheryl: Okay…yes there’s a bottle in the pantry. Ritz Crackers okay?
Cindy: No crackers.
Cheryl: This is a bit strange Cindy. Are you sure you don’t want anything to drink? The girls from the book club said you were a bit eccentric but…do you want a spoon?
Cindy: No thanks.
Cheryl: Here you go. Are you really going to…
Cindy shot the cheese from the pressurized can, covering Cheryl’s face with the sticky, plastic excrement.
Cheryl: What the hell Cindy?!
Cindy: Exactly Cheryl. What the hell were you doing fucking my husband?
Cheryl: Wha, wha…Cindy I can expl…
Cindy: No need. I made him sign the divorce papers earlier this evening. You can fuck his sorry ass for the rest of eternity if you’d like.
Cheryl: I didn’t mean for it to…
Cindy: I’m taking the cheese.
Cheryl: Alright?
Cindy: And the crackers and the gin and the merlot.
Cheryl: I’m sorry Cind…
Cindy: And are these your sons Nikes?
Cheryl: Yea…what are you doing?
Cindy: They’re my size. I’ll take them too.
Cheryl: Stop Cindy. Now you’re being silly.
Cindy: Don’t call me silly Cheryl. You’ve taken plenty from me. I’ll take whatever I want from this house.
Cindy took a swig of gin, copped a second pair of the boy’s Nikes, and slammed the door.
Cheryl was left in the kitchen, cleaning the cheese out of her hair.