1. The Orcs of the Rings
Me: Can orcs even digest bread?
Husband: I’m pretty sure they only eat man flesh.
Me: But they “haven’t had nothin’ but maggoty bread in three stinkin’ days!”
Me: Maybe it’s less of a maggots tainting the bread scenario, and more of a bread tainting the maggots thing.
Husband: Probably. They are a strange people.
Me: Are they even people?
Husband: They are people. Also, you know “Elven bread” sounds a lot like “unleavened bread.”
Me: Yes, it does.
Husband: Not for nothing.
2. Carpe Diem
Husband: Honey, don’t get mad, but the neighbors have been dumping over the fence again.
Me: More veggies?
Husband: No. Seaweed.
Me: (Hikes on blue polka-dot rain boots and marches to the back yard. Sees mountain of seaweed.) Honey! Get the pitchfork!
Husband: Yes, sir!
Me: (Hauling seaweed back over the fence with raging vengeance.) Holy shit! There’s a fucking dead fish!
Me: (Screaming now.) Someone threw a fucking foot-long carp over the fence! (Trails of smoke dribble from my ears.)
Husband: What should we do with it?
Me: Throw it on their front porch!
Husband: Not knowing which neighbor is the offender, diplomatically places it in the middle of the road that leads to all three driveways. (whispers) I don’t want your stinkin’ fish.
Lo and behold, a stealthy neighbor properly disposed of the carp by nightfall.
Husband: Zombie movies are really about the philosophy of the living.
Husband: George A. Romero strategically places marijuana bushes as easter eggs in many of his films.
Husband: And what’s with the “Girl With All the Gifts” movie?
Husband: Bla, bla, bla, hybrids. Bla, bla, bla placenta. Bla, bla, bla, man flesh. (gnashes teeth) Bla, bla, bla, being zombies, themselves, they aren’t on the menu, so naturally, they take over the world. Bla, bla, bla, the ending was blah. An elderly Arnold Schwarzenegger should have repelled down from a chopper at the end.
Husband: Still, I don’t particularly care for these burritos. They’re okay.
Me: I thought you were talking about zombies.
4. Rogue Wave
Husband: (Playing game.) I just can’t catch a fucking break.
Me: (Using best bro-voice.) Your mom can’t catch a break.
Husband: That’s a surfing term. It’s just like how ‘the plot thickens’ is a soup metaphor.
Me: Is the plot thickens actually a soup metaphor?
Husband: I’m saying it is. Let it be known across the land.
Husband: Don’t try to knock your elbows together.
Me: Yeah . . .
Husband: It hurts when you accomplish it.
Me: That’s nice.
Husband: Just lookin’ out for you.