“Get him! Get him, your rotten—“
Justin shook his head as his wife jumped around the living room watching football. There is no way I act like that. She’s mental.
After a minute, his wife took her seat once more, only to stand and scream at another missed tackled.
Deciding it’d be better to leave her be, he headed for the kitchen in time to hear, “YES! Yes! Take that, Justin. You’re team’s getting their asses beat!”
No way… He forced himself to keep walking. This was the last time he’d wager watching football. But my team needs me…