It had been a tough day for all concerned, that was sure. Bill wasn't sure how many blows to the head he'd received, but by the end of the day, it had been a couple hundred too many. Even his supervisor had complained that the lead pipe they were using was just too heavy for this kind of repetitive head bashing. And Sarah, normally cheerful and almost excited about her position over in kidney punches, was in a decidedly dour mood as they tried to board the bus after work, only to discover that the only seats were ropes tied around the throat attached to the rear bumper. That night, lying in bed together, feeling the effects of the drain cleaner wash over their cerebellums like shards of glass over a baby's bottom, Sarah remarked, "Good things come to those who hate," and Bill mumbled, "You said a mouthful there, Missy." Yessir, it had been a very tough day indeed.