Happy Birthday, Kerry!

"Honey, just sleep!" Hap Sorensen shouted toward the bedroom door. "I'll make breakfast, dear! Coffee will be ready in a minute!"

The shouts woke Paul. He shook his head and sneezed. He needed to pee. He leapt from the bed and worked the doorknob with his paw. Kerry Sorensen made a noise deep inside her throat. Paul would call it a growl.

Hap's plan was frozen waffles. He pulled the handle on the rollout freezer drawer. It was stuck. He gave it a tug and heard a `crack' as it came off in his hand. He put it in his bathrobe pocket. The plan switched to French toast. Kerry had that a lot at Denny's.

Hap heard footfalls on the porch steps, up, and then down. Through the window he saw the UPS van drive away. Kerry's birthday present had arrived. The coffee was done. Hap poured some into Kerry's favorite cup and carried it to the bedroom door. Paul heard Hap and scratched and whined. Hap said, "Kerry?" Paul

barked. Kerry leapt from the bed, unlocked the door, and opened it just enough for Paul to squeeze through.

"Happy ..." Hap began, but the door slammed. Hap was back in the kitchen before realizing he no longer held the cup. Kerry had her coffee. Paul drummed his tail against the oven. Hap opened the back door. Paul dashed to his favorite spot behind the garage.

Hap stepped outside. The box was smaller than he'd expected. On TV it looked big. But when Hap lifted it, the weight reassured him that The Jack LaLanne Pro Max Power Juicer would change their lives, just as it had for thousands of others.

Hap carried the box inside and placed it on the table. From the hall closet, he gathered wrapping paper with a matching bow, a birthday card expressing approximately how he felt, and a bouquet of daisies. Hap wrapped the box as best he could and stuck the bow on top.

The refrigerator door opened with ease. There were four eggs, but one was a bad egg, cracked, and stuck to

the cardboard carton. Hap wondered if he was a bad egg. It sometimes felt that way, what with Kerry always reminding him how he'd promised to be a rich and famous writer by the time he turned thirty. So he'd be forty. What's the big deal?

Hap let Paul back in. Paul expected a treat and received one, a slice of salami from the meat drawer. The meat drawer was next to the vegetable crisper, which, though usually empty, was now filled with juicer stuff: celery, carrots, cucumbers, and beets. The eggs went into a bowl. Hap added salt, pepper, cinnamon, and milk. He used a hand-held mixer-- Kerry's Christmas present--to blend it all together.

Hap heard Kerry in the shower just as he dropped the first slices of egg-coated bread into the frying pan. Everything was ready by the time Kerry arrived at the table. "Let's eat first, honey, while it's still hot," Hap said. "Then you can open your present." Kerry looked at the box. "If this is any kind of appliance, or something from an infomercial, I want you to know right now that our

marriage is over," Kerry said. "Fix me a drink," she added. Hap grabbed the vodka bottle and a tall glass. He needed ice so he bent down to open the freezer. He remembered the broken handle in the pocket of his robe.

Hap had writer instincts. You can't introduce a broken freezer handle early in a story without it coming into play at the end.

Hap plunged the sharp edge of the broken handle through Kerry's right eye socket and into her brain. He spent the rest of the day feeding pieces of Kerry through the juicer. The liquid went down the drain. The pulp filled a single garbage bag. Cleanup was easy. Just a hot water rinse and it was ready to go. This time Hap used carrots, celery, beets, and a cucumber.