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.