Hit the road Jack

As she sat in the back corner of the diner, milkshake in front of her, she wondered if he was going to dump her, or if she was going to do it first.

"You're toast," he heard her blurt out, finally taking the plunge and making the first move.

"What?" He said, not quite believing his ears.

"I said, your toast." Only then did he notice the waitress bringing the tray with a small plate heaped with golden-brown slices, alongside a dish of butter.

"Oh, yeah," he replied. "Your history."

"What do you mean, I'm history?"

"I mean, here's your draft history essay. You asked me to take a look at it, remember?"

"Gee, thanks. Why do I get the feeling we are drifting apart?"

"Dunno, are we?" he asked.

"I think we are. Your chair must be on a slope or something."

"Perhaps it's time to say goodbye, then."

"But we only just arrived here. Besides, I think it's you who needs to just pack your bags and go."

"Why would I need to do that? I'm not flying out until next week. Are you saying your want a divorce?"

"What use could I possibly have for a deaf horse? I can't even ride."

"Okay, sure, but you know we are not working out anymore."

"Who was it who cancelled the gym membership, Buster?"

"I was only trying to save us, Babe."

"You know, you used to look so fit."

"And you are not as hot as you were."

"That's hardly surprising when you leave my sweater in the car. Perhaps it's time for us to split."

"Aren't you going to finish that milkshake first."

"And aren't you going to pay the check for a change? Or should I find someone else with a credit card?"

"Are you trying to say you want to dump me?"

"YES, YOU MEAN SONOFABITCH! And preferably in the city landfill, and with a bullet in your head and a wooden tent peg through your rotten heart."

"Oh, I guess that means it's..."

THE END!