The pie.

The pie that wasn’t cooked right. I knew I would have to eat it just so I wouldn’t offend my wife tonight? I, hit it with a hammer in no such manner?

I had a grudge with my wife because of the pie on my plate that wouldn’t budge?

To tell you the truth it damn broke a tooth. I kicked it, punched it and poked it? I got it in an arm lock even put it on the chopping block.

You wouldn’t be leaving it but that thing was like a bloody rock?

In the end I sent it flying out of the window and in a very little while I’ll be a widow?