"No excuses! No, ifs, ands, or buts, my boy! You'll stay until I say so!"
"No," Dagwood replied quietly.
"What?" Mr. Dithers removed his cigar from his mouth and faced Dagwood for the first time today.
"No," Dagwood repeated. "If your wife is man enough to stand up to you, by gum, so am I."
"How dare you draw my wife into this?" Mr. Dithers sputtered. Violet-red with rage, he trembled, then fell over. Dagwood whistled and looked the other way as he went out of the office, leaving Mr. Dithers unconscious on the floor for the janitor to find.
* * *
Dagwood didn't wait for his usual carpool. He took a taxi home, threw off his sport jacket and shirt, and collapsed onto the couch.
"Is that you, Dagwood?" Blondie cawed. "Don't get too comfortable. I need you to run to the supermarket."
"I ain't going to no supermarket," Dagwood grunted. Blondie didn't hear him and came into the living room.
"Get up off the couch if you want anything to eat tonight," Blondie ordered.
"Eat this, bitch!" suggested Dagwood, clocking her right in the kisser. "I don't do errands no more. I don't do repairs no more. I am the king, and this is my castle. Got that?"
"You'll never get away with this!" Blondie gasped as Dagwood shook her senseless.
"Whatever. It beats another day in slavery with you." He tossed her aside with an air of triumph. "Rawr!"
Satisfied, he smiled to himself. There was at least enough time to fix himself a sandwich before the police came.