
I wouldn't throw any Diva fits either if I were her. I'd be as sweet as I could be, so when my husband keeled over dead from all the pills he's been taking I could make like Vickie Guerrero and have a really tight job.
Or better yet, I'd divorce him, so he wouldn't end up hanging from a weight machine while I was tied and gagged in the kitchen. Call me distasteful, but that's what I'd do.
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