#MenageMonday! Week 12
She stormed forward—her normally pristine blouse splattered with blood. I did not know what to think. She slammed the brown paper bag on the counter; it also had blood drops on the outside.
“Sweet Sour Chicken, Pork Dumplings,” she growled in her deep accent. “Nine-fifty-three.”
I stared at her without saying a word, handing her my credit card.
“Machine broken, you have cash.”
I nodded and opened my wallet. I pulled out a twenty. She snatched it out of my hand. I noticed blood on her fingers.
“No change,” she stabbed at me with her shrill voice. “Thanks for sharing nice tip.”
“I’ll go next door and get change,” I reached for the twenty, trying to smile but for some reason was not sure whether it were a joke.
“You want be matching set of things at bottom of Christopher Walken’s Christmas stocking?” She asked harshly, holding up a fork impaling her husband’s eyeball.