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JP Riddles First Divorce

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Weeeeeelll it was a sorry Sunday afternoon way back in 1947 and ol’ JP Riddles was sitting down to dinner with his ex-wife, the lovely Coco Cashmere. I say the bitch was his ex-wife, but JP Riddles didn’t know that at the time, all he knew was a beautiful broad was sitting across from him and hated his guts.

“Gee, Coco darlin, did you put enough salt on these chops?” JP Riddles asked the love of his life.

“I hate you, you know that?” Coco croaked in a voice reminiscent of a cat being squeezed through a printing press.

“God damn it woman! I didn’t fight through the whole damn war to be disrespected in my own house!”

“You didn’t fight in the war! You spent the whole time in J Edgar Hoover’s basement testing out those drugs they give to war criminals.” Coco sniffed haughtily. “And this ain’t your house, it’s mine. I bought it with all the money I make being a famous singer.”

“Your singing is just about as good as your cookin!”

“You take that back you bastard!”

They both stood up from the table forcefully, scattering plates and silverware onto the floor. (Casey, add sound effects here.)

JP Riddles strode right up to Coco and began to yell inches from her face.

“Now listen here you sepia tone trollop! Your voice sounds like a red hot car engine ‘bout to explode from the speed of it’s pistons, you can’t cook worth a damn, and your saggy tits have lop-sided nipples that look like sunny-side up egg yolks about to burst!”

“Well you’re a disgusting freak with rat poison in your hair and a fork in your leg! I can’t even get off in bed because you never tell me a single riddle!”

Suddenly JP Riddles grabbed Coco passionately. (Casey, insert romantic music sting.)

“Damnit Coco, you got me worked up like a cocaine enema.”

“Oh Jay, you’re the only psychopath I could ever love, even if your riddles are shit.”

They kissed passionately. (Does this need a sound effect? Casey, research kissing sounds.)

Coco pushed JP Riddles away. “Careful, don’t smudge my makeup before my big show tonight.”

JP Riddles stared into those big, beautiful grey eyes surrounded with two inches of eyeliner and felt his heart pound in his chest, which was not a good sign as the doctors said he had arrhythmia and his heart could explode at any time.

“Baby, I gotta have you. Let me screw you so hard my screwdriver gets stripped and I can never install shelving again.”

“Okay, but make it quick.” Coco bent over the table and moved her chiffon robe out of the way. She lifted the back of her dress and pushed down her bloomers. Then she unsnapped her garters, lifted her belt, wiggled out of her underwear and moved her sanitary pad aside.

JP Riddles fumbled with his pants and was quiet for a few seconds.

“Uh, sweetie? Do you think you could help me out? You know, tell me a riddle to get me going?”

Without missing a beat Coco replied “I want a fucking divorce.”

And that’s the story of how JP Riddles lost his first marriage. But he still couldn’t get those eyes out of his mind until he realized what he was missing when he met his fourth wife, Debra, but don’t tell her that, she thinks she’s his second wife. Yes, Debra was a racoon JP Riddles had been fighting with over a slice of pizza he found in a park bathroom, and she wore him down until he finally caved and agreed to move into her place which was some bushes behind the bus station. There they lived for five happily married millenia until Debra finally died, but that’s a story for another time.