(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

"Why don't you practice on me, Nenny?"
"I suppose I could try..." She looked dubious. "You big mean nasty brute!"
She put her hands on her hips. "Meanie!" She looked at me. "How was
that?"
"Put more accent on 'brute.'"
"You big mean nasty brute!"
"Better. Now hit me."
Nenny clamped her hands over her mouth, looking shocked. "Oh, I couldn't!
I musn't!" She blinked. "How does one hit somebody, anyway?"
"Go ahead. Do it lightly, if you have to. Remember: I'm a mean, nasty brute.
I deserve it."
Nenny slapped me; I barely felt it. She still looked shocked and frightened
that she hurt me. "Oh, I'm sorry! Did that hurt? Tell me you're okay!"
"Don't break character, Nenny. Come on; show me what you've got. You can
say something bad... just let it all out."
"Oh... I mean, oh!" Nenny drew her tiny frame to its full height, balled her
hands into fists, put them on her hips, and scrunched up her face in a cute
scowl. "Oh, damned be you! You deserved that for all the indignities you put
me through! Going out late at night," Her eyes roamed up and down my
body. "Getting into fights and getting all scarred up! What are the kids going
to think, hmm?!"
"Uh... kids?"
"What?!" Nenny's fury rose another notch. "Have you forgotten our
children?! Are you so sodden with drink that you can't even remember that
we have children?!" Nenny threw up her hands in exasperation. "You're
hopeless, clueless and a lot of other 'lesses' I won't mention right now."
"Excellent," I said approvingly.
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