James held the animal by the scruff of the neck and snarled in its face. “A talking hare, huh? Dear God, Jen, do you hear yourself?”
“Hold him gently,” Jen replied. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Does the donkey speak too? Maybe you heard them have a conversation on the veranda,” James said, making a mouth with his hand. “Hinnn Honnn. Hellooo, me name’s donkey, what’s yours?”
He tossed the hare to the ground. “I’m tired of you talking to those animals more than you do me.” He took the Financial Times off the wooden table and resumed reading.
Taking a deep breath, Jen walked to the hare, squatted and picked it up. She caressed its fluffy, light gray fur. “His name’s Silvery and you shouldn’t drop him like that. You should thank him in fact.”
“I should thank this animal?”
She stood up, speaking as gently as she could manage. “I was contemplating making my bags and leaving this afternoon, but Silvery said things would get better and your cheating was a mid-life crisis.”
“It doesn’t just look like Dr. Phil, it talks like him too?” James said, laughing. “Well, listen. I cheated on you before and I’ll do it again because you’re cold and boring in bed. Had I not been broke at the time, I’d have rather fed you to my dogs than married you. You can leave when you please.”
“I don’t even care anymore,” she replied. She got to her knees and petted Silvery.
“Let me read my paper alone, will you? Go stay outside with your animals.” James looked towards the entrance. “And what’s that damned Donkey looking at me for?”
The donkey had a stupid grin, its lips unpeeled, letting its yellow teeth show, which meant it wanted a treat from Jen.
James stood from his chair and went to the kitchen. “I’m tired of seeing this ass in my house.” He walked out the kitchen door holding a carrot.
He dangled the carrot by the donkey’s nostrils and slowly backed out as it advanced. When the donkey was out, James ran in and closed the door behind. “Ha. Is this what you want?” he said, looking at the donkey through the netting in the upper half of the door. He took a bite of the carrot. “Well you’re not getting it. Shoo. Get away from my porch.”
James walked to Jen and pried the rabbit out of her hands, took it to the window and threw it out too.
He then went to the sofa to resume his reading, almost satisfied; the donkey was still at the door, knocking against it with its hoofs, braying loudly.
“Could you freaking let me read? Asshole.”
“Pardon me sir?” the animal replied.
“I said…” He looked at the door. “What the fuck???”
“My name is Archibald the first, duke of Salerton, not Asshole, and I do thoroughly despise your mannerisms, sir. For a year I have been comprehensive because your wife asked, but no more. Come out here and we shall settle this affront as men do.”
James’ brows rose and his mouth contorted into the shape of a frazzled donut. He stood up and looked at Jen.
“Yes, I am speaking to you, sir,” the donkey said.
“Jenny, Jenny, did you hear that, Jenny?” James said, trying to grab on to her wrist.
“Don’t touch me,” she replied, slapping his hand.
The slap angered him a bit. “Go away, freak,” he shouted, looking at the donkey.
“You mean you shall not give me the opportunity to settle this dispute man to man?”
“I said go away.”
Archie’s nostrils flared. James saw smoke rise from its forehead. He turned to Jenny.
“You'd better tell that freak of yours to go away Jen. I won't have things...”
He heard a crack come from behind him. As he turned, he saw a huge ball of gray headed towards him at full speed.
“Help! Somebody help, a beast is in my house,” he screamed. “Help!”
James had jumped out of the way screaming, to hide behind the sofa.
“Beast you say?” The donkey charged at him but James straddled the sofa, legs in mid-air.
From there, James jumped over desks and chairs and threw vases at the donkey. Eventually, seeing that he’d run out of projectiles, he dashed for the kitchen and hid under the sink cabinet. The donkey galloped after him and crashed into the cupboard’s flimsy boards, breaking them. As it was about to take a bite out of James’ leg, Jen screamed: “Please don’t. Please Archie. For me.”
Archibald brayed – partly in frustration, partly in compassion. “Yes. Yes. This is your house. I’m sorry I made a mess. A gentle-man should never behave as such.” He bent his right leg and took a slight bow. “ Will you pardon me?”
“Of course. Here.” She threw Archie a carrot, which he caught in midair. Then she added: “Let’s just tie him naked to the tree outside. That should serve him right?”
Archie dropped the carrot, turned towards James, and grinned.
A couple minutes later, Jen’s stuff was packed and James was tied to a spruce tree.
Jen looked at him. “I was contemplating hitting you in the nuts; but I’m so happy I never have to touch those again that I won’t. Bye.”
“And the next time you insult this beautiful woman or my illustrious self, remain certain that you shall not get away so easily. Good day sir.”
At this, Archibald took his carrot, strutted out to the gate through the grass, accompanied by Jen, and went back to wherever it is talking donkeys come from.
