"Jenny could not handle a real man." Maverick anounced to himself. He laid in the bed trying to force his angry mind to go to sleep, but this was not going to happen as long as he was thinking about that shrew. He rubs the ring he had placed on his right pointer finger.
"Wouldn't it be nice if she woke up in the morning no taller than a grain of rice that had been thrown at their wedding?"
For some reason, Maverick begins to feel more relaxed the more that he touches the ingraving in the ring. It was less than twenty minutes sleep had found him.
The next morning he realizes that he had left his black suit at the house that he and Jenny had once called home. After knocking on the front door, he used his key to enter the home. He could not go to the sales interview without his best suit.
He found steaming pots steaming on the stove. Smoke was pouring from the oven. And when he reached the bed room, there was only a small spot the size of an ant moving. He raises a book off the night stand and begins to bring it down...
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