“It’s not just the egg salad. No, it’s everything…that goddamn egg salad is like a metaphor for our marriage, how you micromanage every little thing, beat me over the head with your daddy and your money and think that I am just going to lie there and take it. You and home and the boys at the agency, all trying to push this old man around because his best years are behind him and he’s an easy target. Well, no more. Do you hear me? No more. You see to your own egg salad, because I am through taking a back seat to you and your complaints, the boys and their schemes. I don’t care if someone dies from eating that stuff…my days of being beholden to you and your egg salad are over, do you hear me? So help me, they are over!”

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