someone ought to kill me to avenge my wife
- while mr. nice guy's parents were sailing around the statue of liberty, mrs. nice guy was at home puking.
- while mr. nice guy was wrapping up some things at the office and awaiting the arrival of his parents for lunch, mrs. nice guy was barfing.
- while mr. nice guy and his parents were enjoying lunch at the burger joint, mrs. nice guy was at home yakking.
- while mr. nice guy and his parents repaired to the marriott in times square for a scenic drink at the hotel bar, mrs. nice guy was at home retching.
- while mr. nice guy and his parents enjoyed an after-lunch overrated cupcake from magnolia bakery, mrs. nice guy heaved bile at home.
- while mr. nice guy and his parents enjoyed a marvelous dinner at locanda vini & olii, mrs. nice guy sobbed hysterically as she spewed sporadically.
- and as mr. nice guy and his parents chuckled at a friend's show at the upright citizens brigade, mrs. nice guy finally passed out on the bathroom floor, exhausted from vomiting.
- also, she was vomiting.
mr. nice guy called home a few times to listen to his beloved wife weep. his heart broke with more vehemence than he knew he could stand (good thing he was drunk).
but really, his parents had never visited him in new york (and he was beginning to wonder if being so insistent on their coming was wise). he was torn between filial responsibilities and husbandly duty. alas, the role of son won and he was a damn good guide, if he does say so himself--charming, informed, generous. but now he loathes himself for abandoning his bride on a day of dire disgorging. mrs. nice guy now slumbers, sapped of all vitality. and mr. nice guy sits in the dark, stewing in self-hatred.
clearly, it's time to self-induce a little sympathy nausea ... paging doctors ernest and julio gallo, you are needed in the den. stat.