Innocent?

Rachel felt as though she were living in a sinkhole of absurdity, delving deeper and deeper into the ridiculous with every passing day. The problem was her husband Hal, but really what he morphed into… a giant ogre of idiosyncratic annoyance.
Trapped somewhere between the twilight zone and the worst fraternity house on campus, she was stuck in a time loop of constant frustration. In short, his personal conduct and habits were becoming infuriating.
Every morning he woke up and plopped himself in front of the TV snacking and munching all day, while watching nothing. He had to hold the record for the most clicks on the remote in a minute not viewing anything while audibly complaining how there was nothing good on TV anymore and at the same time turning it up to maximum volume so he could hear it. And when she complained that either her ears or the glassware were going to shatter from the volume, he turned on the closed caption.

“Please get a hearing aid,” she’d utter at regular frequency. But the irony is, he couldn’t hear it.
That’s even if she could stay in the room with the never ending flatulence assaulting her senses, leaving her running out of the room on many occasions. Yet seemingly providing a source of humor to him as he mindlessly giggled at the smells and sounds.

Sometimes she wondered if an alien replaced her husband with the most comedicly vile form of human imaginable to study her resolve or her breakdown into insanity.
Each night she began dreaming that she’d be driven to the edge of reason and kill him.
But instead of villainous murder, her fantasies were humorous, and innocent cartoonlike romps, like lighting a match near his flatulent posterior and poof he would be gone. Or shoving the TV remote in his mouth and smashing the TV over his head so drawings of stars would appear over his head with the letter x over his eyes.
In the morning she’d wake up and shake her head back to reality, somewhat amushed, but mostly frightened about what her subconscious mind concocted in her sleep.
is that really the way I feel?
No, she reasoned. But each day brought new struggles, like the Week he wore the same tv shirt and sweatpants every day.
“they’re comfortable and not even dirty,” he replied to her objections.
but the final straw was when he sat outside, watching TV and smoking his cigar while loudly laughing at the three stooges while her friends were visiting for a girls afternoon in the pool. it was two obnoxious offenses all in one.
“Please go inside you’re embarrassing me,” she begged.
“ok. Sure. after I finish this stogie it’s a Cuban and you won’t let me smoke inside. Can’t waste it.”
Soon after her fun afternoon ended abruptly with her friends pity as they all gladly left early, not being able to stand anymore.
with a full steam of anger, she went to confront him, but he got the first word in.
“oh, the girls left early what a shame,” he said nonchalantly.
She couldn’t believe it. He didn’t even realize that he drove them off.
Frustrated, she stomped into the house, and made a pot of coffee infused with a little Baileys to calm her down when he yelled from the patio.
“Hey, I smell the coffee. Could you bring me a cup? And don’t forget the sugar.”
as if she transformed into a cartoon drawing of her own, she could feel the steam coming out of her ears like blowing a factory whistle when the workday was over.
The next few minutes were a complete blur as she begrudgingly delivered his coffee and then retreated back to the kitchen to find two boxes sitting right next to each other. the sugar and rat poison.
“How did that get there?” She said in a panic. “oh my God, did I put the rat poison in his coffee? Could I have done that? I don’t even remember bringing it out.”
Slowly, she tiptoe toward the patio, watching and listening for any signs of her murderous intent, but there was nothing. There he was still laughing and puffing away.
“Whew she said in relief, but does that mean my dreams are coming to life? Do I really want this to happen? Am I innocent or guilty?”