“Scott is that you?” Vivica asked from the kitchen as she checked on dinner. Wordlessly he walked towards her, pecked her cheek and reached into the fridge for a beer. “How was work Dear?” she asked, stirring the pot of spaghetti sauce.
“Uneventful, quiet as I like but that always means trouble’s
brewing.” Scott replied and took a sip from the bottle in his hand.
“Oh you should have a little more optimism Scott! Things
could be settling down a bit for now. Think of it as you doing your job
successfully; the crime rate is dropping.”