I wasn't raging my attire was making me cranky. The Glad lady shows poor manners and tries to undo my dress or so I thought.

What is she doing? Through the haze that lingers in the air, I see my beloved fall to the floor. This can't be the end!

"Sergeant do something! Zip up, do your job, call for help and arrest her."

I continue to sob and not rage. But miracles do happen. I see my G-man rise from the floor. Sticky and smelly but definitely not dead.

"BTW, Glad lady, who are you calling a Brolly Trolly?"