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Rassaphrass’s husband LeRoy went out for garlic bread on a Tuesday. She ate all the spaghetti and meatballs before he returned, to teach him a lesson, because he took too long. He brought in a stray cat, but she made him throw the filthy thing back out; she had never liked cats. On Wednesday LeRoy took the clothes to the laundry mat on the other side of town. Rassaphrass stripped the sheets off the beds and handed them to him, upon his return. Then she sent him back to the Laundro-Mat. Could he do nothing right? On Thursday LeRoy took their dog Missy Bee to the vet, ran the vacuum sweeper, washed the kitchen counters, and cleaned the refrigerator. Rassaphrass was irritated that LeRoy had left a wet sock in the washer at the Laundro-Mat the day before, so she mentioned it casually a couple of dozen times through supper, laughing at his stupidity. On Friday LeRoy wanted to take Rassaphrass out on the town, go out to a nice supper, maybe dancing or a movie, really show her a good time. They had not had a date night in forever. He got all gussied up. When he came out of the bedroom ready to go, he discovered Rassaphrass on the couch, in her pajamas, hair uncombed, eating a plate of beans and franks. “Not tonight,” she said. “I have an earache.” Weirdly enough, LeRoy decided to go out by himself. Rassaphrass was irritated by this, she had hoped to hear him slamming cupboards all night. She liked putting LeRoy into a stew, because of his pink cheeks. It always put her in a good mood when he was sad. On Saturday Rassaphrass woke up alone, confused. Where was her husband of almost a year? She looked outside and was shocked that his yellow Jeep was not in the driveway. She played video games all day, not looking up, not realizing that her beloved LeRoy was not in the house at all on Saturday. On Sunday Rassaphrass put her tablet away for an hour, deciding how she was going to give LeRoy a nasty piece of her mind, but he did not return on Sunday. She called the police, but they said he had not been missing long enough for a report or anything. Sergeant WilkenKnow giggled before he hung up the phone, which Rassaphrass took personally. On Monday Rassaphrass went to work at the lightbulb plant, fully expecting to come home and see a contrite and possibly crying LeRoy lying on the couch, in his pajamas upon her return. She smiled, visualizing him begging her for forgiveness. Maybe he would have hot ham and beans and cornbread with horseradish fixed waiting for her when she walked in the door tonight, as an apology. Rassaphrass walked into a cold house at five-fifty-three, and she was hungry. Around 7:10, she noticed that LeRoy’s favorite brown recliner was missing. She called the hospital that night, and his parents, but no one had seen LeRoy. At 9:30 p.m. Rassaphrass discovered that all of LeRoy’s clothes had been stolen from the closet and the dresser drawers. If she had not already been disrespected by Sergeant WilkenKnow, she would have called the police station. They were keystone cops anyway. How much help had they ever been? Her second husband had been a cop. She shrugged her shoulders, and began filling LeRoy’s side of the closet with the clothes she had bought and hid last month. She had purchased them on his mother’s J.C. Penney’s, on a charge card; a card they had sort of promised would remain empty except for emergencies. Rassaphrass’s theory was, why loan someone a charge card if you do not want them to fill it up? By Tuesday, Rassaphrass was pondering her choice in men. She always picked losers. LeRoy was the third husband who had disappeared in five years. She imagined a spaceship was taking them, or something, when she ran into an old high school boyfriend, Zeke, in the grocery store. She laughed prettily at his jokes, noticing what prancing brown eyes he had. She was dressed in her favorite light blue dress, and her make-up was just so. Rassaphrass, the mysteriously gorgeous woman, whose husbands never returned. Zeke felt sorry for her, as he stared into her beautiful light blue eyes.

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Rassphrass and Leroy's Love Story

Rassaphrass’s husband LeRoy went out for garlic bread on a Tuesday. She ate all the spaghetti and meatballs before he returned, to teach him a lesson, because he took too long. He brought in a stray cat, but she made him throw the filthy thing back out; she had never liked cats. On Wednesday LeRoy took the clothes to the laundry mat on the other side of town. Rassaphrass stripped the sheets off the beds and handed them to him, upon his return. Then she sent him back to the Laundro-Mat. Could he do nothing right? On Thursday LeRoy took their dog Missy Bee to the vet, ran the vacuum sweeper, washed the kitchen counters, and cleaned the refrigerator. Rassaphrass was irritated that LeRoy had left a wet sock in the washer at the Laundro-Mat the day before, so she mentioned it casually a couple of dozen times through supper, laughing at his stupidity. On Friday LeRoy wanted to take Rassaphrass out on the town, go out to a nice supper, maybe dancing or a movie, really show her a good time. They had not had a date night in forever. He got all gussied up. When he came out of the bedroom ready to go, he discovered Rassaphrass on the couch, in her pajamas, hair uncombed, eating a plate of beans and franks. “Not tonight,” she said. “I have an earache.” Weirdly enough, LeRoy decided to go out by himself. Rassaphrass was irritated by this, she had hoped to hear him slamming cupboards all night. She liked putting LeRoy into a stew, because of his pink cheeks. It always put her in a good mood when he was sad. On Saturday Rassaphrass woke up alone, confused. Where was her husband of almost a year? She looked outside and was shocked that his yellow Jeep was not in the driveway. She played video games all day, not looking up, not realizing that her beloved LeRoy was not in the house at all on Saturday. On Sunday Rassaphrass put her tablet away for an hour, deciding how she was going to give LeRoy a nasty piece of her mind, but he did not return on Sunday. She called the police, but they said he had not been missing long enough for a report or anything. Sergeant WilkenKnow giggled before he hung up the phone, which Rassaphrass took personally. On Monday Rassaphrass went to work at the lightbulb plant, fully expecting to come home and see a contrite and possibly crying LeRoy lying on the couch, in his pajamas upon her return. She smiled, visualizing him begging her for forgiveness. Maybe he would have hot ham and beans and cornbread with horseradish fixed waiting for her when she walked in the door tonight, as an apology. Rassaphrass walked into a cold house at five-fifty-three, and she was hungry. Around 7:10, she noticed that LeRoy’s favorite brown recliner was missing. She called the hospital that night, and his parents, but no one had seen LeRoy. At 9:30 p.m. Rassaphrass discovered that all of LeRoy’s clothes had been stolen from the closet and the dresser drawers. If she had not already been disrespected by Sergeant WilkenKnow, she would have called the police station. They were keystone cops anyway. How much help had they ever been? Her second husband had been a cop. She shrugged her shoulders, and began filling LeRoy’s side of the closet with the clothes she had bought and hid last month. She had purchased them on his mother’s J.C. Penney’s, on a charge card; a card they had sort of promised would remain empty except for emergencies. Rassaphrass’s theory was, why loan someone a charge card if you do not want them to fill it up? By Tuesday, Rassaphrass was pondering her choice in men. She always picked losers. LeRoy was the third husband who had disappeared in five years. She imagined a spaceship was taking them, or something, when she ran into an old high school boyfriend, Zeke, in the grocery store. She laughed prettily at his jokes, noticing what prancing brown eyes he had. She was dressed in her favorite light blue dress, and her make-up was just so. Rassaphrass, the mysteriously gorgeous woman, whose husbands never returned. Zeke felt sorry for her, as he stared into her beautiful light blue eyes.