REESE

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          "How," Stu spoke in a low tone. "does Belle feel about it?"

          Billy sighed, "Hate."

          "You?"

         "Hate."

           It wasn't the 1st-time that Billy and Stu've had this very conversation and, as the days dragged, it inevitably wasn't in any way, shape, and/or form going to be the last. <Man... the sooner the better.> Billy thought to himself. Stu didn't get it. Stu just didn't get it. Stu didn't get it. Stu didn't get it. 

           All that Billy wanted -- more like needed -- was to be with his wife, but "No." <This,> Billy wanted to scream. <is Hell on Earth!> Instead of getting to be with said wife, Billy had to be with... her sister. As in... Billy had to pretend to be... her boyfriend. The mere, oh mere thought of it made Billy wanna wretch. 

          This.

           Is.

           Hell.

           Having to do the things that he only and I mean only did with his wife with another woman didn't sit well with him -- how could It? How? How? How -- how could it? And... to make matters even, even, even worse... the rings had to go. Billy and his wife never and I mean never went anywhere without their rings.

             On.

             It had to be done, and Billy knew it, but... that didn't mean Billy accepted it. On the bright side, it would only, only be about a year before Billy could go back to his normal life, right? Right? Right? Right? Yeah. As long as there were no screw ups, it would be about a year. That was that.

              Earth.

               It felt as if hours had passed since, wellll, since Billy had zoned out, but Stu didn't mind at all, and, instead of interrupting, had taken to re-directing his gaze to the TV before them -- what... are y'all watchin', anyway? -- Billy didn't get it. Billy just didn't get it. Billy didn't get it. Billy didn't get it.

                *          *          *

                 On the other side of Woodsboro was proof that Billy's wife wasn't taking it all that better. Eyes all red and glassy from crying, hair splayed every which way from tossing and turning throughout the night, unable to settle both literally and metaphorically, just all-in-all a bit of a mess. 

                  Bit of a mess?

                  Bitch, please.

                  Straight-up mess.

                  The thought of  her husband being with another woman, even if it wasn't real, didn't sit well with her -- how could it? How? How? How -- how could it? And... to make matters even, even, even worse... the rings had to go. Reese-Isobel and her husband never and I mean never went anywhere without their rings.

                    This.

                   Tear after tear slid down Reese-Isobel's cheeks, but she made no attempt to disperse any, allowing them to fall to the tear-stained pillow below, instead. It was obvious from the get-go that some sacrifices, both literally and metaphorically, would need to be made for the sake of the success of the plan, but... still.

                     Is.

                     It had to be done, and Reese-Isobel knew it, but... that didn't mean Reese-Isobel accepted it.

                     Hell.

                     On. 

                     Earth.