"This is something I have to deal with, Christine. You can't stop me," Erik said, glaring at her half mockingly.

Christine rolled her eyes. "But you know what happened last time!" she said, exasperated.

"Look, if it bothers you that much, just go into a different room or something."

"Fine, but don't break anything again if it doesn't work," she said, waltzing offinto the music room, leaving him there in the kitchen. This was the third time they'd had this discussion, and each time it ended the same way: with Erik breaking something.

Christine waited a few moments, and she could hear Erik straining to do just what he couldn't. Then, he yelled, and glass could be heard shattering, along with several loud objects that lie in the kitchen. She stood patiently waiting for the noise to quiet until she went in.

When she did, that same image as the other two times presented itself before her. Erik's face screwed up in rage, the table over turned, pots and pans scattered on the countertops… And pickles everywhere.

"Couldn't get the jar open again, huh?"