“Oh, fuck you!” You shout, walking out of the front door onto the porch. Bill follows right behind you, hot on your heels.

“Come on, just stop, please.” He says as you both stop in the middle of the empty road. You don’t have to worry about a car passing by. No cars have touched this road in years.

“Do I ask for things? Ever? This isn’t for me, this is for us!”

“Who cares what they look like?!” Bill shouts, only serving to frustrate you further.

“I do! Our home isn’t just our house, It’s everything around us!”

“Oh give me a fucking break!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I forgot. I live in this world. You live in a psycho bunker where 9/11 was an inside job, and the government are all Nazis.”

“THE GOVERNMENT ARE ALL NAZIS!” Bill roars, waving his arms up in exasperation. You know this dance. There’s no getting through to him. Not anytime soon, at least.

You sigh, deciding it’s best to back down for now. All this started because you wanted to clean up some of the stores in this fucking wasteland of a town. Not even the stupid ones. Just the wine shop and the furniture store. And the boutique. All you needed was a few supplies, but Bill, being the stingy fuck he is, refused, babbling some bullshit about resource management.

“Listen, I’m not asking for us to throw garden parties and have a barbecue with the couple next door. But we are going to have friends,” You mutter. All you really want at this point is to go back to normal. No matter how angry you are, you hate fighting with him.

“Friends? Where, exactly are you going to find friends?” Bill asks, calming down as well.

“Well, I’ve actually been talking to a nice woman on the radio.” You say, turning on your heel and marching back into the house, leaving Bill sputtering behind you.

“You what?!” He shouts, following behind you.