Pool_1

knew Macaluso's wife quite well as she was a neurosurgical nurse at the hospital across town where Ivory occasionally covered. That helped spice the verbal jousting as Mina was only too glad to share, lovingly, stories about her moody but dedicated husband. Dr. Macaluso, semi-ignored, though smirking, the neuroscatalogical references and Belachnik's King Kong bit while the others laughed, "I see you have Bill's button on," referring, with a teasing disdain, to Shannon's Vote for Hilary's Husband election campaign badge. "We need a woman in the White House," she asserted, and quite smugly with her chin thrust up. "All men think about is war," referring to military news still coming out of Kuwait, now on the radio. "Planning war. Waging war. Reflecting on war deeds. Women, think about nurturing. All men think about is war, war, war." Denise interjected, as she picked up her tray to go, "Wrong! Men are two dimensional. Sex and war, war and sex. But I say, if that Iraqi dork acts up again, bomb the fucker. The big bomb. I mean, damn, who does that rat's ass think he is? Hitler? Gotta skedaddle," making an indelicate gesture as she left. Ignoring this intrusion, looking over his gold rimmed glasses at Shannon, Marcus did his best Gable, "Frankly, Scarlet, I don't give a damn. And besides, it was two freaking women who didn't bother to freaking tell us that their kids with freaking chicken pox wouldn't be freaking here today!" He'd occasionally assault a go nowhere air headed discussion with a string of near expletives, an inner beast took over, as the heads around the table bobbled in 'you tell'er' approval. Although this was as soft as he got in that sort of interchange - using freaking for the alternative.