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Michael Grant, born June 22, 1960, hated his life with a passion. The monotonous life of a 49 year old butcher would soon cast him down a path of pain and insanity that no man could comprehend, or stop.

***

With that thought, Michael Grant, 49, walked out of the freezer, grabbed the bell from the counter, and put it in a cabinet with a happy smile before turning back to the customer who had placed his hand upon it several times.

"What’ll it be?" asked Grant.

I shall make the ringing cease soon! Just a few more seconds!
"I’ll have a…uhhhhh…"
If you didn’t know what you wanted, why did you cause the ringing! Why!? WHY!?
"A…um…a…"
You bastard! I will tear out your eyes!
"I’ll have a half-pound of ground beef, and…hang on, let me call my wife," said the customer.
Stop procrastinating the inevitable! You cannot save the bell! You CANNOT!
"Hey honey…what was it you wanted?" asked the customer.
Grant could hear nothing but squabbles, and after a few seconds, the customer spoke back into his device.
"Alright, thanks, be home soon," said the customer before hanging up and looking at Grant.
"I’ll have the half-pound of ground beef, and a pound of bacon," said the customer.
What kind you insolent bastard!?
"What kind?" asked Grant, doing a very good job at keeping his thoughts inside his head.
"That one," replied the customer, pointing at one of the few differently prepared types of bacon.
"Right," replied the butcher as he began packaging the meat, he weighed both, and took payment before giving the meat to the customer. The customer walked out, and the butcher turned around, grabbing the bell from the cabinet and walking into the freezer. He then put it down on the ground, grabbed his tenderizing hammer, and began smashing the bell to pieces.
"You finally get what you deserve! You ringing, dinging bell!" yelled Grant as he smashed the bell with a smile upon his face.