Disagreement Angel

When things are getting too cozy the Disagreement Angel's always on hand to make things crappy! I love you, honey bunny, for the rest of my entire unnatural life! I want to tunnel into your insides and make a furry love nest for two! Then, trumpet blaring, flapping its massive wings, the Disagreement Angel breaks the couple in two like a communion wafer. Then he feeds them to the Gods of "I Have a Headache" and "I'd Rather Watch TV," who spit the two out like warm, flat seltzer water. While they're a puddle on the floor, DA zaps a spark of eternal argument into their spines, like a surgeon shooting patients with chemical fire. Then, after two days of hot baking solitude, the former lovers can now be free to ignore each other at the supermarket or decide not to take the yoga class the other person is in. The DA is satisfied, its mission is done. It gets on the bus and borrows a quarter for fare from a guy in a suit. It eyes a woman and man sitting next to each other. One of them is about to talk.