The Professional Argument
It was late in the evening early morning when the coast had a sapphire reflection and Robert Smith stared straight into the bottle of Matriarch Vodka concluding he needed a sleep doctor.
“I know if I take more shots of this stuff, I will be a winner,” the mumbling thoughts pondered this desperate action that developed after his beloved maiden needed British pounds.
Only a few hours ago while dining on meats overlooking the Breakout River a disputed quarrel erupted when his girlfriend's jewelry was missing a piece and the whole argument escalated into an aphro man accusation putting Robert Smith in his place.
“It’s just a pearl,” he stated.
“But I got this necklace when I was out of the money,” she exclaimed, “my shiny agent who got me the big show bought it for me.”
“You mean El Jay the guy who put you out of the money?”
“He did not drive me into bankruptcy,” she retaliated, “in a second he made me a Jaywalker.”
“Yes,” she screamed, “it was a flying honour telling us we were winners and worthy to travel in the air.”
“Flying honor!” Robert shouted back scaring the many fish that were in the water, “think rush all he wanted you was in a show.”
“And I looked good,” she ended the conversation leaving the whole situation unfit for any settlement.
When the drunken meditation ended there was a knock on the door and Robert had enough strength to answer. Standing there was his fair maiden, “I was able to pick up the pounds to even things up,” she smiled, “that pearl necklace was cheap, and Robert I am ready to be a home maker, a Robert Smith Home Maker.”
As they both laughed which included a quick embrace, Robert looked the Ms. Smith image straight in the eye and proclaimed, “you will be perfect in my new houseware advertisement brochure.”
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