Take A Picture (It'll Last Longer)

“I already gave you five hundred dollars!” Ben said.

“I didn’t realize five hundred here was only two hundred and fifty at home!” Amy screamed at him.

“It’s not my fault that the American dollar has fallen in value!” Ben hissed at her.

“Is it your fault that you’re ugly?” Amy yelled.

“That has got to be the worse comeback ever!” Ben rolled his eyes at her.

“It’s not as bad as your breath,” Amy hissed.

“At least my breath is better than your ability to commit in relationships,” Ben screamed at her.

“I’m better at committing than you are at math!” Ben yelled at her.

“You may have the brains but at least I have a little common sense!” Amy screamed.

“Common sense? Like knowing how to go out with the guy who makes the most money?” Ben snorted.

“Well, I’ve never walked straight out in front of a car before,” Amy pointed out.

“The light said pedestrians had the right of way! It was the cabby’s fault, not mine!” Ben hissed.

They had been going on like that for three hours. Amy had come home and said she needed more money. Ben asked her what she needed it for and she said a dental appointment. Instead of coming home with nice teeth, she came home with new shoes. Ben was not particularly pleased by this and when Amy had insisted that her wardrobe was a necessity, Ben said it was pathetic that her only necessity in life was looking like a whore so guys would hit on her. Then they got into a fight.

“You better loan me the money!” Amy hissed at him.

“Why? You’ll just blow it on shit!” Ben yelled back.

“If you don’t fork over some cash right now,” Amy said with this demonic gleam in her eye, “I will call up Beatrice and Albert straight away and tell them about what you’ve been up to the past two months. Wouldn’t it be just lovely if Mummy and Daddy found out that you were married?”

Ben’s face turned sheet white and for a moment I thought he was going to faint. I had discarded my book to watch them fight because it was truthfully much more interesting than what I was reading and for the first time, Ben noticed that I was watching him. So, Ben trying to be a man and wear the pants in the family, (which was kind of funny because neither of us had been wearing pants that often as of late due in part to Amy being out of the house giving us time to romp around and… never mind) he decided to puff out his chest and be a big man.

“Go ahead and call them. See if I care,” Ben said snootily. I looked at him skeptically, doubting that his reverse psychology would work on his sister. Amy is pretty stupid, but she isn’t completely dumb. Sometimes she can be a downright calculating bitch.

“Fine then. I will,” Amy said.

“Go ahead,” Ben snorted.

“Watch me,” Amy said whipping out her cell phone.

“Dial away,” Ben said carelessly.

“I’m going to,” Amy said to him, not pushing any of the buttons.

“Why don’t you?” Ben said annoyed.

“If you want to so much, you call them,” Amy said, thrusting the phone in Ben’s face.

“You’re just to chicken to call and tell them yourself,” Ben snorted.

“Oh, I’m too chicken?” Amy snorted. “You’re the one who’s been married for two months and still haven’t told them.”

“You’re the one that said you were going to call,” Ben said.

“Do either of you actually remember what you’re fighting over?” I sighed.

“We’re fighting because Ben is a tight-ass.”

“No,” Ben said, annoyed. “We’re fighting because you’re a slag!”

“Am not a slag!” Amy hissed.

“Are too,” Ben said, crossing his arms.

“Am not,” Amy replied.

“Are too,” Ben insisted.

“Children! Please!” I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll shut up if Benny Bitch-Whipped will,” Amy glared at Ben.

“I will if Whory McSlut does,” Ben hissed back.

“The two of you are lost causes,” I rolled my eyes.

“Wow. She sounds just like Beatrice,” Amy said to Ben, horrified.

“Don’t ever talk like that again, Ben said to me.

“You’re not my boss, Ben,” I snorted.

“Told you that you were Bitch-Whipped,’ Amy said to him triumphantly.

“Am not,” Ben hissed.

“I’m going to call them,” Amy threatened him.

“Go ahead!” Ben snorted.

“What are we going to have for dinner?” I said looking at the clock.

“Oh, Frank is taking me out tonight,” Amy shrugged.

“Who’s Frank?” Ben asked protectively.

“He’s some guy,” Amy rolled her eyes.

“Married or Single?” Ben asked curiously.

“I don’t remember,” Amy admitted.

“How old is he?” Ben asked.

“Not quite retirement age but I think he’s older than thirty. Maybe thirty-five,” Amy shrugged. “I never found an appropriate time to ask on our first date.”

“How could you at least not hint around to it?” Ben asked.

“Well, when you spend the entire date on your back with your skirt over your head…” Amy began.

“Quit it! I don’t want to hear about my sister’s moonlight escapades,” Ben said, covering up his ears.

“Japanese it is,” I said, pulling a menu out of the bin of takeout menus.

“Who said we were having Japanese?” Ben said.

“It was the first one I pulled out of the bin and you didn’t say anything either way,” I replied. “Besides, you haven’t eaten anything but pizza in the past week!”

“Because the magazine has been doing the ‘Best Pizza in Chicago’ awards,” Ben snorted. “I can’t help it if I go to restaurants to snap shots of the pizzas and they offer me a few free slices.”

“You could bring some of those slices home to your lovely wife,” I said bitterly.

“I tried… by they mysteriously disappeared in my car,’ Ben said.

“I’m inclined to believe that they slipped through one of the holes in your floorboard rather than you actually eating them,” I said.

“You should get a new car, Benny,” Amy said agreeably. “I’ve seen that ruddy thing. You couldn’t even sell it for scrap market. Why don’t you use the money in your…”

“Because it’s locked up, okay?” Ben hissed.

“Money where?” I asked.

“Shit! I’m late for Derek!” Amy said.

“I thought you were going out with Frank…” Ben said confused.

“I am,” Amy said exasperatedly as she headed out the door. “My date with Derek is before the one with Frank.” She slammed the door behind her as the phone at the takeout place rang.

“So, do you have a Swedish bank account I don’t know about?” I asked Ben curiously.

“Yeah,” Ben snorted. “It’s chock full of Faberge eggs and the French crown jewels. I’ve also got a couple of those antique Ferraris and a priceless Ming vase hidden away somewhere.”

“And you’re still driving around the Crap Trap?” I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe I could buy a family car,” Ben suggested. “Like a minivan or a sedan or a station wagon?”

“Go ahead and buy a family car,” I said, pretending not to get Ben’s hint, “but I’ll tell you this, you won’t be taking my family around in it.”