Death by Tabasco - Part 4

I was startled when I heard the doorbell. I didn't know Otto could move so quickly. The fastest I'd ever seen him move was when out town had their annual chili-eating contest. He impressed me with the amount of chili he consumed. How could someone eat so much chili in one sitting and not have smoke coming out his nose?

I'm getting off track again -- another of my irritating habits, according to Clive. Ah, well, he won't be bothered by those anymore, will he?! More's the pity.

Heaving a huge sigh, I went to the door and let Otto in. As he entered, he just looked at me, saying nothing. I pointed toward the living room sensing his mood and decided to keep quiet. I don't think he wanted to believe me, but he knew I'd never lie and therefore accepted it without question.

"Brr, Dee, why is it so cold in here?" he said finally.

"Cold?" I asked. "Oh, I had to open the windows because of the smoke from the Tabasco.

"Tabasco?" he ask nonplussed. Understanding starting to dawn and he said, "Oh, you've been making popcorn again haven't you?" He moved on without waiting for an answer. He was used to my odd ways and, though he would never admit it, actually liked my popcorn.

I didn't follow Otto. I knew what was there and decided that I'd let him do what he needed to do without me getting in the way. I know you'll find this hard to believe, but I'm also known for my...er...helpfulness. Some would say it was more like meddling, but I like to think I'm more of a help than an hindrance.

Otto was sure taking his old sweet time in there. How much time does one need to look at a dead body? It seemed like hours since he went in. It's always the same when you're waiting for something...like watching water come to a boil.

"Um, Dee?" Otto asked from the living room.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"You might want to come in here," he replied.

Getting up from the kitchen table, I asked, "Why? I've seen Clive and would rather not have another look if that's okay with you."

"Just come in here, Dee. Make it quick."

Never wanting to upset Otto, I went in. You could have knocked me over with a feather! There, right before my eyes, was Clive sitting upright against the coffee table looking dazed with Otto kneeling beside him. I must have had my mouth opened because Otto said, "Close your mouth, Dee, he's not dead."

"Well," I said. "Ain't that something?"

"That's all you have to say, Dee?" asked my befuddled husband from his position on the floor.

"What more do you want? I thought you kicked the bucket and here you are, sitting up, large as life and breathing along with the rest of us. Why didn't you say something, you inconsiderate slob?!"

A slow smile spread across his face, bloodied by the gash he had on his forehead, as he looked at me. "I didn't want to interrupt Gone With The Wind, babe," he answered. "I know how much you like that movie."

Shaking my head, I couldn't help but smile back. I wonder if now would be a good time to ask about getting rid of that blasted moose head?