It was getting close to ten. The lasagna on Bambo's plate was getting cold.
Bimbo was supposed to have been here two hours ago. This was supposed to be their big night in. He had spent hours agonizing over all the tiny details, what to wear, his decorations, the wine, everything had to be just perfect. And now it was finally the moment of truth and she wasn't even here.
Maybe she got lost on the way over he thought to himself. Maybe she got a flat tire and was currently on the phone with triple A, and was just about to send him a text to pick her up. Something. Anything.
He picked up the phone and called her again. The last two times it had rang a few times and gone to voicemail. He hadn't left a message. He hated voicemail.
The phone answered, a husky voice. "Hello".
It was his father's voice.
Bambo's phone broke into pieces against the red chimney, underneath the mounted head of the biggest redneck he ever bagged.
"That fucking stank ass ho" he sobbed.