Amy and Jeff looked at each other and then at the raw chicken before them. Amy raised a brow and Jeff shifted his eyes looking everywhere except at her and the kitchen. "Jeff?" she asked and he whistled kicking his legs about. Amy narrowed her eyes and then moved towards him, getting a kitchen knife on the island. "Please make it quick."
Jeff moved back, shaking his head, why did his life have to work out like that? Why did his stupid mouth ask for chicken for dinner? But then how was he supposed to know that the thing would look so ugly? "Wifey, please, I'm sorry, okay, I'll take cooking classes I swear."
Amy held back her laughter, who would have known that the great Jeff was afraid of slicing a chicken and she knew she was having the time of her life taunting him? "You ordered it isn't it wise enough that you should attend to it?"
Jeff squeezed his eyes shut and looked at Amy. "Wifey, please, please, please." He pleaded with hands folded in front of him.
