The cleanest heartbreak.

The shop assistant turned to look me in the eye and stared at me like I’d just asked her to smear jam on a cow with her breasts, one pert and one dangly.
“I’m sorry, sir, I don’t think we stock washing machine porn. We’ve got washing machines…”
“No! It must be washing machine porn! With two women and one washing machine, and one of the women should have one leg shorter than the other by 17 millimetres!”
“I think that’s a bit specialist for John Lewis, sir. Is there anything else I can…?”
“Fine! Would you please take this jam and smear it onto a cow with your breasts, one of which should be pert and oSMACK

I came to in the chief’s office.
“Chief?”
“McCloud! Dammit, McCloud, why are you still acting up like this? Your wife ran off with the washing machine repairman two years ago, let it go!”
“But chief…”
“McCloud!”
“…there was never any way to get the smell of Calgon out of the bed.”
I broke down and sobbed on the chief’s shoulder whilst he smeared jam on a cow with his breasts, one pert and one dangly.