Yesterday afternoon started off as planned. I headed to the airport and picked up Hilly and drove over to Britt's house. Britt was doing her spinning class and would meet us at her place afterwards.

Hilly and I were enjoying a nice conversation talking about martyrs and hummus and Twitter when my phone rang.

"Hi, Britt," I answered.

"SCHNOOZZZZDOOOGRANCH," she exhaled smoke loudly, "So, I just got into an accident."

"Oh no! Are you okay?"

"Okay? PHARRRRRRNGESHHHHHH. No, I'm not okay! My car is probably totaled! I mean, physically, I'm fine, but some fucking twat ran a red light and hit me and my car's totally not drivable. WHANGSWOOOOONSHAH."

So we turned the car around and headed for the gym. Scant minutes later, we arrived at the scene of the accident. I parked behind Britt and the police motorcycle and got out.

Wearing an all black sweatsuit that said "She's Not That Into You" on the back in pink letters, Britt, looking like a cherubic teen ninja, stood in her aggressive stance. Elbows cocked, knee slightly raised – she was obviously ready for a fight.

"It's about time! WHACKAJASHOOOOOP!" Britt was smoking furiously. "Can you believe FAHRVENOOOOOGASH that this fucking woman BANASHAWAHHHHHHHN is now denying that she had a red light?! KLAUTSHENANDOOOOGAH. And this one?" She tilted her head towards the officer. "He won't accept the witness's information because she had to leave BOOOOOHRSHCHAKA and he says that even though she saw the whole thing PHOOOOOOOOOONGHALLLLAH it would be hearsay."

"Don't worry about it. We'll be able to get an affidavit from the witness and a court will accept that if it comes to that."

"It had fucking better accept it! This is absolutely fucking ridiculous! GRRRUNNNGGGGYYYYYSHHHHANTY!"

"Officer," I asked. "You really can't accept information from a witness if they don't remain here?"

"No sir, I can't," he replied calmly. "And since I didn't see the incident personally, I can only go with what each party is telling me, and she has said that she had a green light."

"WHAAAAAAAT??!!" Britt's voice began climbing the scale. She started walking towards the officer.

"Ma'am, I've explained this to you. Because you weren't hit from behind or T-boned, I have to listen to each of your stories."

"BUT SHE'S LYING TO YOU! SHE ADMITTED IT TO THE WITNESS!" As Britt approached the officer, I heard the far off howl of dogs.

"Yes, ma'am, I understand that, but given the evidence here, I can't determine-"

"OH, THIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT! I CAN'T BELIEVE THAT I'M GOING TO GET FUCKED BECAUSE SHE'S A LYING BITCH! JESUS!" This last ejaculation reached sonic levels. Windows around us began to crack and shatter. My sunglasses turned to dust.

"Ma'am," the officer, suddenly aware that he was in danger, focused all of his attention on Britt. He put on arm forward, as if to ward off her ninja attack and placed his other hand on the butt of his gun. I watched as he quickly unbuttoned the top of the holster. "You need to calm down now."

"BUT I AM THE VICTIM HERE. SHE RAN INTO ME BECAUSE SHE CAN'T FUCKING DRIVE AND SHE CAN JUST LIE ABOUT IT AND GET AWAY WITH IT? THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS." Her usually pale face flushed with a shade of red usually seen only in Hell itself, Britt took a step forward, her dainty hands curled up into man-crushing fists.

"This is the last time I'm going to ask you to calm down." The officer, realizing that his death was imminent, spoke calmly and coolly as he prepared his gun. We both knew that it would take more than a gun to stop a Britt rampage. "I cannot assess any blame here, and the evidence could corroborate either story."

Her self preservation stopped her. Finally appreciating the fact that she was about to escalate the situation by using her Britt-fu on the poor officer, Britt took a step back. I could see her mind racing as she assessed the damage she may have made with regards to her case and calculated a way to prevent it.

She scrunched her eyes, puffed her cheeks, and a solitary tear escaped from an eye. "Officer, I'm sorry. It's just that I've just been hit by someone who admitted what she did, but then she lies and I'm very overwhelmed." The tears began to flow.

Relieved that he didn't have to kill the devil incarnate, the officer straightened and removed his hand from his gun. "I understand, ma'am. I'm not trying to be the asshole here – I just need to remain objective, and that's what I'm trying to do. Luckily, the insurance company will almost definitely be on your side with this."

"Okay, thank you," she said meekly. Well, as meekly as Britt can get. That's like saying that Pam Anderson dressed demurely or Hugh Hefner looks youngish.

"Sir," the officer turned his attention to me. I was, of course, cowering behind the car amid the shattered glass, waiting for the imminent gunfire to end. "Can I speak to you alone?"

He and I walked over to the other driver's car with the pretext of inspecting it to see the damage. "Do you think she understands my position?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Are you sure?" I noticed a bead of sweat roll across his forehead. His eyes darted nervously.

"Yes, officer. She understands. And I promise that she won't try to attack you or try to take vengeance on your family for being objective in this situation."

"Okay, good." I noticed that his previously brown hair had streaks of gray in it now. "I wouldn't want to have had to call for backup."

"You wouldn't have survived that long!"

I remain convinced that he left without knowing whether or not I was serious.

***
In other Avita-news, tonight at 9 PM is another new episode of "Clearly, You're Retarded"! Set LOST to record on your DVR and tune in to part of the largest online radio show that has the word "retarded" in its title!

Tonight's topic: How far does "spousal obligation" go? Is it outdated to expect your spouse to attend work functions with you? Is it good manners to play hostess (or host) when your spouse has friends in your home? Do you and your partner attend parties together or separately? Do you have YOUR friends and your spouse's friends?

What do you expect from your spouse? What social obligations do you see as part of your "job" or "role" as the spouse?

If you listen live, you can join everyone in the chatroom where there is usually a lively discussion going on that has nothing to do with the topic at hand. You can create an account at Talkshoe and download the Talkshoe Pro software or just listen as a guest. I recommend downloading the Talkshoe Pro software because even though it still has problems, it seems like the problems are more minimal with it. Hope to see you there!