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Excerpt from To Kill An Armchair Husband, a dark comedy.

I rocked back and forth for several minutes and studied Billy’s face as he stared at the gigantic screen. Contrary to what the salesman told him, I observed his two eyeballs moving as a set between the two pictures. There was no way his left eyeball could watch one game while his right watched the other.

At the thought of one dedicated eyeball per game, I chuckled out loud. Billy didn’t even glance up. Maybe if I fell to the ground and pretended to pass out, he would notice. Of course in order to get his attention, I would need to make a really loud thump when I struck the floor.

Or, I might catch his eye if I posed in front of the screen dressed in a tiny red, white, and blue string bikini with a six-pack nestled in each arm. Boobs and beer. Budweiser increased their sales a thousand times using that lethal combination.

A last option was the old standby, no clothes at all, just green body paint and a pair of gold pom-poms. If I stood directly in front of his chair and jumped up and down while shouting, Go Packers, Go Packers, Go Green Bay, Go Packers, well at the very least, he’d tell me to move.