Scene: A quiet, placid night on July 6, ca. 3 a.m. Chelsea and her trusty canine, Bodhi, are nestled quietly in bed, as our heroine must rise at 6 a.m. to be at work on this impending morning …
Chelsea: *still groggy from sleep* Bodhi, what are you barking at?
Bodhi: The white trash in the government-subsidized housing down the road is shooting off fireworks again.
Chelsea: What the hell…?
Bodhi: Because now that it's after the 4th of July, they can buy their fireworks for cheap. And unlike you, they aren't working in the morning.
Chelsea: Why do I sense that you're a Republican?
Bodhi: Because I think I'm better than you and love to lick my own balls?
Chelsea: That would probably be why.
*fireworks in the distance*
Chelsea: Damnit Bodhi, you know what it is, why are you barking at it?
Bodhi: I just wanted to alert you to the fact so that you can feel bad about being a liberal and promoting people such as our pyrotechnically-inclined, orthodontically challenged friends down the road.
Chelsea: Well, you're going to wake up the neighbors. So stop it.
Bodhi: Actually, no, your neighbors are having sex right now. The fat slovenly ones on the other side of your bedroom wall, actually.
Chelsea: Why do you tell me these things?
Bodhi: If I have the unfortunate gift of sonar hearing and have to hear them, you at least have to be as miserable just knowing the fact.
Chelsea: Yeah … I'm going to go make myself a stiff drink.
Bodhi: Welcome to my private hell.