Pro sat in the house's porch, absently looking at the nothingness in front of him. Mick walked out with a bag of ice.
"Here," Mick said offering Pro the ice.
"Thanks." Pro put the bag over his black eye. "Ow! Why can't you wife simply slap people, you know, like normal women?"
"No idea, man..." Mick adjusted his jaw with his hand, remembering something. "I gotta keep ice in the fridge 24/7, just in case I say something wrong."
"Is she still...?"
Mick looked into the house through the window. "Yep."
"Can I...?"
"Yeah, go ahead..." Mick sat next to Pro.
"Oh, thank God." Pro took another smoke and lit it in record time. He let out a sigh of relief.
"...unless she walks out, that is."
"If she walks out, I'll eat it."
"Heh. So... " Mick looked at the lack of reality beyond his house. "About that..."
"Yeah," Pro sat up and adjusted his composition, appearing more serious. "We should probably start working on rebuilding."
"But there's like, nothing left, you know...? What can we do?"
"Oh, Mick," Pro grinned. "I thought you of all people would realize that the question is... What can't we do?"
