You were married to Elvis, you were mad that he only just told you he was going to Las Vegas and you had to go to Sweden.

"Why didn't you just tell me?!" You threw the newspaper at him.

"That not a problem of yours, darling." he set a step closer to you.

"You're making it my problem!" You yelled, making him angry.

He stepped towards you and grabbed your arm tightly.

"Stop being a brat now, darling." He hissed.