The warmth company

They were together, holding themselves to the warm complexion of their skins, one against the other, in the middle of a cold, freezing night. He said to her:

-I'm happy. I was reading last night about something a jazzist used to scream when he ended a wonderful performance. He used to say that someone should shoot him while he's happy.

Then, he asked her if she, knowing that he was that happy, would do him the favor of shoot his brains out.

-Yes, I would. She said.

- Well, but, what would you do with the huge mess, the blood, guts and bone splinters spilled all over the place?? He asked right away.

She answered:

-I shurely won't clean it up. It would be disgusting. I prefer to shoot myself right here, by your side.