"Jeezus, isn't life beaut." Jim came back from the dunny out the back.
"Just did a ripper of a shit.When your bloody guts falls out. Really satisfying."
"Oh." Crispin wondered if it was appropriate to talk about toilet habits with your next door neigbour.
"Know what I mean?"
"Um." It was a subject Crispin had never really discussed with anyone.
"The wife knows what I mean."
"You talk to your wife about bowel movements?
"Doesn't everyone? She's my best mate."
"You bet. Bloody love her to bits. Don't you love yours?"
"Well, yes. of course I do."
"Well do you show her you love her?"
"Well, yes of course I do." Crispin thought of the holidays, the jewels, the dinners at Giovannis, the plays the house, the cars.
"I bite Deb's bum."
It sounded like a much cheaper option. "OH."
"She loves it. Calls me 'the predator.'"
'Yeah." Jim gazed into the fire a contented man."
Crispin ruminated on the last words his wife had said to him. "Why don't you just drop dead." In no context could they be called terms of endearment.