What, me worry? A Mad Magazine scenario

There’s no drinking water.

I usually get a drink upon arriving home. I go straight to the fridge it it’s hot and grab a cold pitcher but I usually go for the ones outside stored at room temperature. Less shocking to the system that way.

Unfortunately for me today, the house seems to have been hit with a shortage of the drinking water variety. All thanks to the cold war that’s been at play with the two people I live with since all before I was born (Shameless rip-off of old Ben’s dialogue, I know. So sue me.)


It’s this simple: One thinks that if he/she boils the water for the thermos and sterilize the rest for everyone’s consumption, the other will get off scott-free from doing anything and just reap the rewards that came from the other person’s effort. Either of them would feel cuckolded by being victimized by the other “freeloading” scumbag. So the simple solution: suffer. At least there’s some sort of comeuppance in all these that other party at least suffers with you.

Dehydration as the lesser evil than the mental anguish of being “taken advantaged of” by the other party.

And caught in this crossfire is me. It’s like watching a perpetual montage of that famous MAD Magazine strip SPY VS SPY unravel in real time being played by cranky geriatrics.

It’s enough to drive a person crazy. Maybe I already am.

Big deal.

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