Hammerhead

“Basically, a tool is an object that enables you to take advantage of the laws of physics and mechanics in such a way that you can seriously injure yourself,” I explained, groaning in pain.  Why I had even considered helping Jack out with ‘fixing’ his water problem?  I just knew it would end like this.  I sighed.  Why would you even need a hammer?

“Well, now you’ve made me feel bad,” Jack fake pouted, tossing me an icepack.  I snatched it from the air before it would fly away.  I rolled my eyes.  “I didn’t mean to drop the hammer; blame the laws of… Whatever you just said,” Jack explained.  I groaned.  Of course Jack wouldn’t know what I just said.  

“You should feel bad; you’re the one who just dropped a hammer on my head,” I snapped.  I gingerly placed the ice on the swelling, yellow lump being born on my head.  Jack just laughed.  I shot daggers at him through my eyes.  “This is not funny, Jack!”

“Maybe not to you,” he laughed, tears streaming out of his eyes.  I groaned.  “Oh, shut it.”  That was the final straw; my patience was normally very, very thin- and circumstance made it about half its normal size.  

“JACK BROWN!” I shrieked; I could literally imagine steam flying out of my ears.

“JILL TERRY!” Jack shouted through his laughter.  I winced as I stood, the world spinning a little.

“I will hurt you,” I threatened, my voice sounding like my five year old sister’s- also known as: very, very high.  

“How, with a hammer, Hammerhead?” Jack laughed.  For some reason, this was hilarious to him.  My god.  Boys, I tell you.  Jack was doubling over, laughing as if his life depended on it; when it was actually the thing that was oh-so slowly taking it away from him.  

“No.”  Jack gave me a very confused glance.  “Say ‘hello’ to Patricia and Jasmine,” I grinned through clenched teeth.

“Who are-?”

“My lovely fists,” I said in a sickly sweet tone.  “Say ‘bye-bye’.”

“Wait, wha-?” And then he was running.  Well, he was running because I was running, and I was running because he was running and… Well, this was just our friendship.

“Jack!” I shrieked.  “Where the heck are ya’?”

Silence. God, Jack.

“Jack?!” I asked, spinning around a few times.  “Jack? Where are-?”

“BOO!”

I screamed- a high pitched scream; one that would make an opera singer feel shameful.

“Oh my god, Jack!” I shrieked, slapping him. I slapped him some more before saying, “Not.  Funny!”

“Maybe not to you,” he said in a sing-song voice.  Patricia and Jasmine introduced themselves to Jack.  I’m sure they were great friends.  

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I hate ambulances; really hate them... Now I hate them even more!

“Jack and Jill went to the roof, to try to fix that water; Jack’s hammer fell down, broke Jill’s crown; and Jack was punched soon after,” Jack laughed in a sing-song voice.  I grimaced.  

“How long did that take you?” I asked.

“Not long,” Jack smirked, somehow ‘proud’ of his ‘accomplishment’.    

“Really?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Uh huh.” Jack smirked.

“Huh,” was my brilliant response.  But, hey, I was pretty flabbergasted!

“Uh huh.”  Enter Patricia and Jasmine. “Wait, Jill!”  Whoops, too late, Jack.

And that, my friends, is how both of us- Jack and Jill- ended up in the E.R. with mild concussions and a mutual hatred for hammers.  But it wasn’t my fault.  Jack dropped the hammer, after all.