Janet beamed to herself. This would be such fun, just like old times. She scoured the table � red, yellow, blue, green, orange, teaspoon, funnel, little scoop, camera � perfect. She used to do this all the time, using old coke bottles, jam jars, washing-up bottles, you name it. Such pretty, pretty patterns. She giggled at the memory.

Content and ready, she hurried to open the little packets of multicoloured sand and pour them into pots. There, that would do, now the funnel �

      Janet plucked up the plastic cylinder and glanced at the chair behind her. William didn�t look very happy. Not happy at all. He�d given up squirming against the ropes about half an hour ago, now only groaning as Janet set up the table. No doubt he was bemused, but she expected that. It�s common for a degree of disorientation to follow a good solid blow to the skull.

�Come on then,� Janet said, using the heel of her hand to push his head back.

William moaned, tried to twist away, and clenched his fingers. �No, Jan � what are you doing?�

Janet laughed. �Come now, Willie. You�ve always said you admired my creativity. You used to say it was something we should share.�

He gave her a look of dismay, and started to struggle again, but Janet knew he couldn�t get free. She�d tied those ropes good and tight. Mister I�m sorry I forgot our anniversary was going nowhere.

�Jan, please, I mean, be serious, this is stupid � I ��

She gazed down at him, funnel in hand. �Eight years, Willie, and not once have you remembered our anniversary � not once.� She raised the funnel. �Well, Mister, you�re going to remember this one. Oh yes. Now chop, chop. Open up.�

She tried to jam the funnel tube into his mouth, but William twisted his head away.

�Stop this!�

Frustrated, she gripped his nose and pinched his nostrils closed. �Open your mouth, Willie!�

He gritted his teeth and clamped his lips, but Janet knew he couldn�t hold his breath forever. Eventually, his face turned purple with a bluish tinge. His eyes bulged. He tried to shake free from Janet�s hold, but she kept her hand firmly in place. �Might as well cooperate, Willie. Make it easy on yourself.�

His lips split as he whined in defeat. He sucked one breath before Janet seized her opportunity and rammed the funnel tube between his teeth, down into his throat. She smiled.  �There�s a good boy.�

William gurgled, spluttering uselessly through the funnel. Still no matter. He wouldn�t splutter for long. Janet adjusted her hold, using her left hand to collect a scoop of sand. Red first, she thought. His favourite colour.

William screamed. His wail screeched like a siren through a megaphone, but Janet ignored it.

�Isn�t this nice, Willie,� she said.  She loaded the sand scoop and poised it above his funnel-stuffed mouth.  �I always thought all our failing marriage needed was a little more quality time together.�

She poured the sand into the funnel, and took great pleasure in watching it rush down the tube and disappear into his throat. William heaved, gagged, choked, and tried to thrash his head away, but Janet neglected his feeble efforts. She filled her scoop a second time, this time choosing a nice, cheery yellow.

�I think it�s a vast improvement, honey,� she said, and then poured the second scoop into the funnel. �Yes, a vast improvement.�