Life is too short

Lazy days like these when the weather is sultry, we don't feel like doing much of anything requiring more energy than popping the cap off a frosty brew. We just sit in the shady side of the cob house with our ratty re-caned chairs tilted against the wall, sipping our drinks and opining on the world situation.

Massive banks of clouds roll up from the southwest, laden with tropical moisture. Then, during the brief cataclysmic bursts of fury, we are driven indoors to huddle around the fan to dry off.

"Life is too short to be in the wrong job." Lardass declares.
"What the fuck are you talking about now?" I squinted at him.
"Well, don't you ever wonder if you were mean't for something better than working at the dump?"
"Hmmn. Like, what could be better than this?"
"Most anything." he mused.
"I should fire your ass for insubordination, and stupidity."
"You can't fire me. I'm quitting."
"Ok. Goodbye. Get the fuck out of here!" I had had enough of his crap.
"Wait until it stops raining. Then I am out of here, you ingrate." He popped another beer.
I pulled out my .44 Python and flipped the safety off. I aimed the gun at him.
"Put that beer back. Beer is for employees."
"And chicks with big mangoes?" lardass added.
"Yeah, just put it back."
"Ok. Never mind. I didn't really quit. I was just kidding. I love my job. " he swigged the beer. I put the gun away.
Life is too short to go to prison for shooting an idiot.