The scene: Our bedroom, this evening.
The prop in question: The writing desk I just purchased.
The conditions: Blaine’s hair, standing on end. Well, if he had enough to stand on end, that is.
Blaine: No, of course I don’t **mind** putting it together for you. It’s just that it’s never as easy as they say it's going to be. This is the third or fourth piece of some-assembly-required furniture that you’ve bought since we moved here. It takes, like, all day to put them together, and it never makes sense, and I always wind up with an extra bracket or a missing screw or a piece of the instruction booklet is torn out, or something! This shit makes me crazy!
Kristie: Well, I’m sure it will look great when it’s done; you always do a really good job.
Blaine: Yeah, if I don’t lose my mind first.
Kristie: Hopefully this one will go smoothly and will only take a short time.
Blaine: Uh-huh. And maybe MONKEYS will fly out of my butt.
Kristie: Well, when they do, hand them a hammer and a screwdriver and tell them to get cracking.