Worst Thing Ever

"Imagine," she said, standing there on her high-horse, "the worst thing ever. That is for you."

"The worst thing?" I asked (to confirm. This conversation having taken an unexpected direction).

"Absolutely the most horrible thing ever."

I think for two seconds, then shoot from the hip: "In a space station, and I am ejected into the vacuum of outer-space."

She is not impressed. Her eyes turn into red laser-beams. "What the fuck is wrong with you? I ask you about the worst thing ever, and you give me some sci-fi bullshit? Stop being such a nerd, and say something real. Something profound. Something realistic."

I go back to my devices; my notebooks and my usb drives and my Lego sets. I inspect everything for realism. For profundity. I find it, and return to her, victorius.

"I'm pregnant when they space me?" I say.

This is when the noise starts. She is furious, livid. Angry. Zones of her hairdo begin to erupt, like Vesuvius upon Pompeii. I have to return to my packaging in order to survive her fury. Only slivers of reasoning are traceable within the comfort zone I need to maintain in order to remain alive.

"I said realistic, you motherfucker!!!"...bzzt bzzt..."Why are you still in outer-space, come the fuck back home"...bzzt..."Nobody likes science fiction. So there."