Put Your Hands To Her Tear-Stained Cheeks And Ask Her What She's Done Day!

She left a lipstick stained coffee cup on the dashboard of the getaway car. You already know the answer. And you know that she's pretty much drawn the police a map to your hideout. You should already be out the back door, since the sirens can be heard a ways off. But she thinks that she can shed a few tears and you'll forgive her and take care of everything. Even though that's true, and even though you have around twelve seconds to get the hell out of there, you two find it so hard to actually discuss anything that you only pick the most inopportune moments to make it clear how you feel. Moments that make it impossible to get anywhere near a resolution.

Take the twelve seconds before your desert police chase for example. You want to tell her that, although remembering to toss a lipstick-stained coffee cup out of the getaway car is a small detail, you feel like she missed that detail because this whole bank job was your idea, your creation, and she didn't pay attention to the small details because she never took your work seriously. You want to tell her that you turned down a 6-figure diamond heist last Autumn because she was pregnant, and that even though the miscarriage wasn't her fault, you've nevertheless resented her ever since. You want to tell her that she's always hated you for stealing her away from her District Attorney ex-husband, and that she's grown bored with throwing your promises to go straight up in your face, so now she's decided to go ahead and get you pinched.

"It's how it's gonna end anyhow, so why not get it over with," you want to tell her.

You'd like to hit her. Which is why you place your hands over her tear-stained cheeks. It's like you're hitting her real soft and slow. You say, "What have you done?"

She sniffles. She tries to say I'm sorry but a sob cracks it in two. You grab her by the arm.

"Come on," you say. And you drag her out the back so you can get into the car with the clean plates and start your way bitchin' police chase. She's gonna die before you, but you're gonna die. In a motel room above a bar.

Happy Put Your Hands To Her Tear-Stained Cheeks And Ask Her What She's Done Day!