Just Joe

It was four fucking a fucking m and the sudden onslaught of sound triggered a dire need within me to slaughter something.

I sprung from my sheets like a soldier awaiting battle call, barefoot in boxer briefs and hair arranged like a modern art piece entitled No Hope in Hell.

The neighbor's chainsaw continued unabated as I yanked open the backdoor with an unceremonious SLAM and screamed into the twilight, "JOSEPH! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING!"

The chainsaw slowed, and behind a tall fence I could feel the object of my wrath squirm. "Uh, sorry - forgot to do this last night and what with it being chilly this morning--"

"GET FUCKING CENTRAL HEATING, PRICK!" And with that and another SLAM I retreated back inside my fortress of vinyl siding.

Anger rose from my body as I paced a circle 'round the house, taking deep yet not calming breaths. I kicked a dog toy, which emitted only a pathetic squeak that did nothing to quell my bloodlust.

"Hon?"

"Sorry," I mumbled, not at all sorry, to the sleepy form of my better half.

"Let's just start the coffee now, shall we?"

As the morning ritual recast its magic, the evil within me crept back to its wary slumber.

And Joseph lived to see another day.