It was awfully quiet today. I remember hearing them on my way in and out of the apartment building. The noisy couple on first floor. They were only an year into marriage but good god did they know how to fight. Screaming expletives at each other followed by the sound of crashing utensils. It did annoy me at first, but guess I became accustomed to it as time went by—white noise. But today was different. It made me anxious.

I decided to go check on them, maybe get a little peek, to make sure everything was fine. I got down to the first floor and softly approached their apartment. The door was closed. I decided to retreat only to stop by the stairs. What if they are making love for a change, go put your ear next to the door and maybe you'll get to hear some sweet nothings you pesky little bugger, jibed my inner voice. Ah, what the hell. I walked back to the door.

I sat down on my knees and put my ear next to the door. "God, what have I done," I heard someone whisper. Meanwhile, my knee felt a wet and pricking sensation. Something had oozed out from beneath the door. A crimson colored puddle. I touched it with my finger, shit, a shard of glass.

This did not feel right. I have to get out of here. As I was getting ready to get away from the probable scene of crime I heard someone approach the door from the other side. I don't want any part in this, god no. The door opened with a slow grievous swing. I looked up. A tall figure stood clutching something in his hand. The weapon? A long chrome handle. A wiper?

"The wine bottle," he said. "Guests are sitting inside and my stupid ass has broken this bottle. She is going to kill me. Please help me clean it before she comes. Lend me a hand Mr. Smith I beg you!"
I nodded my head in approval and did lend the poor lad a hand. However, we couldn't get it done in time. What followed next was the screaming.

The eternal balance was finally restored.