"What *are* marriage vows even? Rules? Guidelines?

"What *are* marriage vows even? Rules? Guidelines? More like suggestion box pipe dreams at best." Man, Craig sure knew how to talk me into justifying the dead hooker in my trunk.

I needed to be careful. To my twisted knowledge, I was the only serial killer who targeted the low-intelligent, defenseless, the cows. I worked at meat packing factory so no one wo

uld notice a few cows going missing. Fine, except for the day security at the gate noticed the gentle lowing from the boot of my car. "I'm taking some work home!" I stuttered,

The security guard shined a light in my face. "Sorry, sir please open the trunk." He lifted the latch and the man-eating cows pounced. My biotech smuggling days where over.

That wasn't the only thing at steak. The security guard headed for the hills. I whistled at the bio-engineered cows. I heard a distant moo and waited for them to come home

. But they never arrived. Puzzled, I jogged over the hills myself to see what the problem was. Oh. The bio-engineered cows had no legs. They were ground beef.

My assistant stuck her tongue out at me as she gave me a good ribbing. I would have to steak my prime reputation on going a cut above, or I'd be rump roast. I threw together some

rarities from Meatloaf's B-sides, and handed her the cassette tape. Even though she busted my chops, it only made to want to marinate and sautée her more.

She asked me if I put ketchup or catsup in the Meatloaf. I told her it included wheatgerm. She asked me if I had any horseradish, and I knew then her tastes were eclectic as mine.