By "Took many years but we're friends", she means that I was held captive in a pit in her cellar for almost two years (apparently she's watched Silence of the Lambs too many times). One day when she was gone (getting a Tombstone tattoo of all things) I was finally able to escape ... but I didn't call the police. I spent the next year dodging a hitman and eventually I got to him first. I then assumed his identity and continued living in the underground realm of our dark, cold world, constantly having to watch my back.
One day, I received a note from IceQueenHerb. It contained a typed-written message and some old photos. And anthrax. The HAZMAT team did their thing, and I got out of the hospital two weeks later. Not long after that, I received a second note from IceQueenHerb, but I thought, "I ain't falling for this shit again!" So, I didn't open the envelope.
Apparently, you can lace the outside of an envelope with a certain ... let's say "chemical" ... that causes severe diarrhea and internal hemorrhaging. After three more weeks in the hospital, I moved and assumed a new dark identity.
After a THIRD note from IceQueenHerb arrived in my mailbox, I figured out that because we work for the same agency, it was going to be difficult to avoid her completely. So, I jumped right in and opened the envelope expecting the worst. All the note said was "HA HA". No after effects.
At this point, I think we both decided it was best for our kids that we get along. I mean, who the hell wants two daughters that hate each other and try to kill each other every other week like mom and dad?
Anyway, we sold our rights to Hollywood and they eventually came out with the movie Mr. & Mrs. Smith. After the divorce, IceQueenHerb promptly took my share of the movie proceeds and bought a new truck (Spin has seen it ... totally hillbilly, but badass. Frankly, I kind of envious).
We have both moved on in our lives since that dark time. The worst thing she's done to me since is mail a bag of Gummy Dicks to my house. It was pretty funny, but I didn't even open the fucking bag of Gummy Dicks. I mean, what guy in his right mind would? (Full disclosure: I saved the bag of Gummy Dicks for a couple of weeks and tried to explain them to my then-girlfriend. She thought it was hysterical. Bitch.)
So, yes ... now we are "friends". We enjoy legally killing each other in virtual reality courtesy of XI. So, in closing, thank you all for keeping our relationship strong. All complete strangers. Jerks.
